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WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 


BOOKS  BY  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE,  D.D. 

PuBUSHED    BY    CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

The  Ideal  of  Jesus.       8vo net  $1.50 

Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible,      izmo,     .     .     .     net  $  .30 

The  Christian   Doctrine  of  God.    (International 
Theological  Library.)   Cr.  8vo,    .    ...    net  $2.50 

The  Use  of  the  Scriptures  in  Theology,  izmo,  net  $i.oo 

A  Study  of  Christian  Missions,     izmo,     .     .  net  $  .50 

Can  I  Believe  in  God  the  Father?     izmo,     .  net  $1.00 

What  Shall  We  Think  of  Christianity  ?  izmo,  net  $1.00 

An  Outline  of  Christian  Theoloey.     Cr.  8vo,  nst  $3.50 


Tl^cZO-c^^  Ti  •  C^^kVlu  . 


WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 


A   BIOGRAPHY 

WITH    ADDITIONAL    SKETCHES    BY    HIS    FRIENDS 
AND    COLLEAGUES 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES  SGRIBNER'S  SONS 

1916 


Copyright,  1916,  by 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Published  August,  1916 


^\ 


r--r' 


PREFACE 

One  who  was  quietly,  yet  widely,  known  as  preacher, 
teacher  and  author,  passed  lately  into  the  unseen  world. 

His  books  were  widely  read,  not  only  by  students  and 
masters  in  theology,  but  by  many  other  thoughtful  men  and 
women,  for  whom  he  had  bridged  the  chasm  between  the 
past  and  the  present,  and  had  made  the  Christian  faith  pos- 
sible in  a  time  of  doubt  and  transition. 

The  truth  and  charm  of  his  first  well-known  work,  An 
Outline  of  Christian  Theology,  was  at  once  recognized,  and 
each  succeeding  book  met  a  hearty  welcome  from  eager 
readers. 

These  books,  quiet  and  clear  in  style,  were  evidently 
the  utterances  of  one  intent  on  his  message  and  conveying 
it  in  the  most  direct  and  simple  way;  yet  they  seemed  some- 
how alive  with  the  personality  of  the  writer,  and  many  read- 
ers felt  his  magnetism  so  strongly  that  they  wished  to  draw 
nearer  to  the  man  himself.  From  every  direction  letters 
expressive  of  keen  interest  and  deep  gratitude  came  to  him 
from  persons  who  knew  only  his  work  and  his  name. 

Before  he  began  to  write  books  he  had  been  a  minister 
of  the  gospel,  a  preacher  of  singular  earnestness  and  power. 
Later,  he  had  been  a  teacher  of  theology.  As  a  preacher  he 
had  the  art  of  catching  the  attention  of  his  auditors  at  once 
and  of  holding  it.  He  saw  his  congregation  as  individuals, 
and  the  hstener  often  felt  as  if  he  were  being  directly  ad- 
dressed. Something  of  this  is  apparent  in  his  books,  and 
without  any  effort  to  do  so  he  established  a  personal  rela- 
tion with  his  readers.     His  beautiful  spirit  appeared  in  all 


G92554 


vi  PREFACE 

that  he  wrote  and  awakened  a  warm  response  in  many  hearts. 
Some  who  never  saw  his  face  felt  when  he  passed  away  that 
they  had  lost  a  personal  friend. 

Doctor  Clarke  was  a  quiet,  home-loving  man.  He  was 
never  strong,  and  the  most  of  his  energy  went  into  his  work. 
His  life  was  uneventful,  and  with  the  exception  of  seven 
years  in  Canada  it  was  spent  in  country  places.  He  was 
deeply  interested  in  public  affairs,  and  his  opinions  on  social 
and  political  questions  were  clear  and  decided  and  freely 
expressed.  He  was  in  s>Tnpathy  with  all  efforts  for  the  re- 
moval of  unjust  and  injurious  conditions,  and  worked  through- 
out his  life  for  the  uplifting  of  humanity,  yet  he  was  never 
prominent  as  the  exponent  of  any  movement  or  cause.  In 
his  case  no  materials  existed  for  a  stirring  or  picturesque 
biography.  From  first  to  last  he  kept  the  even  tenor  of  his 
way,  lo\ing  the  work  to  which  he  was  called,  and  doing  it 
easily  and  with  joy. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Ancestry  and  Early  Life i 

In  Keene 24 

Newton  Center 33 

In  Canada 48 

The  Years  at  Hamilton 62 

The  Last  Day 99 

Personal  Characteristics loi 

Personal  Recollections 129 

reverend  william  o.  stearns. 

The  Story  of  a  Friendship 136 

professor  j.  w.  a.  stewart,  d.d. 

William  Newton  Clarke 157 

reverend  edward  judson,  d.d. 

An  Appreciation     170 

reverend  henry  h.  peabody,  d.d. 

The  "Theology"  of  William  Newton  Clarke   ....     185 
professor  william  adams  brown,  d.d. 

An  American  Theologian 201 

professor  william  adams  brown,  d.d. 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 

FAOE 

In  the  Classroom  ..." 211 

professor  f.  a.  starratt. 
professor  john  benjamin  anderson, 
reverend  daniel  hunt  clare, 
reverend  troward  h.  m.\rsh.\ll. 

As  Theologl\.n 228 

professor  george  cross,  d.d. 

Professor  Clarke  at  Yale 257 

professor  douglas  c.  macintosh,  d.d, 

Index 261 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

William  Newton  Clarke Frontispiece 

Cazenovia  Seminary  in  1846       Facing  Page    12 


WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 


WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 


ANCESTRY  AND  EARLY  LIFE 

The  writer  of  this  biography  of  William  Newton  Clarke 
consented,  with  hesitation  and  dread,  to  undertake  a  difficult 
task,  for  the  reason  that  no  one  else  possessed  the  intimate 
knowledge  requisite  for  a  true  account  of  that  gentle  and 
secluded  Ufe.  This  record  shows  the  outward  environment 
and  sequence  of  events.  Its  account  runs  parallel  with  the 
story  of  his  inner  experiences  and  theological  transitions  told 
by  himself  in  Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible,  a  book  written,  as 
he  says,  "in  the  single  character  of  a  student,  lover,  and  user 
of  the  Bible,"  and  in  which  no  names  of  places  and  persons 
are  given. 

It  seems  best,  at  the  outset,  to  correct  a  misstatement 
which  has  been  widely  published,  to  the  effect  that  Clarke 
was  of  Scotch  origin  and  came  in  his  youth  from  Edinburgh 
to  the  United  States.  Scotland  has  given  many  theologians 
to  the  world,  but  Clarke  was  not  one  of  them.  He  was  as 
purely  an  American  as  it  is  possible  to  be.  All  of  his  hereditary 
lines  run  back  into  the  early  colonial  period  of  New  England. 
His  ancestors  were  devout  and  heroic  men  of  English  birth, 
who  expatriated  themselves  soon  after  Laud,  with  the  approval 
of  Charles  I,  began  his  efforts  to  turn  back  the  Church  of 
England  toward  the  fold  of  Rome. 

These  men,  severally,  arrived  at  Massachusetts  Bay  be- 
fore Winthrop,  with  him,  or  a  few  years  later.  None  of  them 
were  Separatists  at  first,  but  all  became  such.    Colonial  rec- 


2  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

ords  show  something  of  their  part  in  the  making  of  New 
England. 

Clarke  was  born  in  a  typical  American  village,  there  he 
spent  his  childhood  and  youth,  and  there  he  received  that  most 
important  part  of  his  education  which  determined  his  career. 

He  took  his  collegiate  course  and  studied  theology  in  the 
village  of  Hamilton,  New  York,  and  thither  he  returned  in  his 
full  maturity  to  give  his  ripest  work  to  the  church  and  the 
theological  seminary  until  the  end  of  his  life. 

Whoever  would  understand  American  life  as  it  was  seventy 
years  ago  must  know  the  American  village  of  that  time,  which 
was  the  active  centre  of  those  religious  and  intellectual  forces 
that  shaped  the  lives  of  all  and  developed  men  and  women 
who  became  leaders  in  the  communities  where  they  dwelt. 

The  best  element  in  the  life  of  cities  was  largely  recruited 
from  country  places.  The  foreign  element  in  even  the  older 
cities  as  yet  was  small.  The  majority  of  householders  in  the 
United  States  were  tillers  of  the  soil  who  lived  independently 
upon  their  own  land.  For  each  farming  community  the  cen- 
tre of  interest  and  of  social  life  was  the  \'illage,  where  the 
churchgoers  met  together  and  the  voters  held  their  town 
meetings.  The  village  began  its  existence,  usually,  with  a 
church  or  a  schoolhouse,  to  which  all  other  good  and  neces- 
sary things  were  gradually  added.  Here  and  there  in  some 
one  of  the  larger  villages  of  a  group  of  townships  might  be 
found  an  academy  or  a  good  denominational  school,  where 
boys  could  be  fitted  for  college  and  any  who  desired  it  had 
opportunity  to  gain  a  higher  education  than  the  common 
schools  provided. 

The  American  village  was  the  creation  of  free,  intelligent 
men  and  women  whose  needs  and  ideals  it  expressed.  Village 
and  villager  thus  in  the  New  World  became  honorable  words, 
knowing  nothing  of  villeinage. 

In  Oldto-mi  Folks  Mrs.  Stowe  has  depicted  the  life  of  a 
small  New  England  village  and  has  analyzed  and  explained 


ANCESTRY  AND  EARLY  LIFE  3 

conditions  as  they  were  in  such  places  toward  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century  and  early  in  the  nineteenth.  In  the  preface 
she  says : 

"My  object  is  to  interpret  to  the  world  the  New  England 
life  and  character  in  that  particular  time  of  its  history  which 
may  be  called  the  seminal  period.  I  would  endeavor  to  show 
you  New  England  in  its  seed-bed  before  the  hot  suns  of  mod- 
em progress  had  developed  its  sprouting  germs  into  the  great 
trees  of  to-day. 

"New  England  has  been  to  these  United  States  what  the 
Dorian  hive  was  to  Greece.  It  has  always  been  a  capital  coun- 
try to  emigrate  from,  and  North,  South,  East,  and  West  have 
been  populated  largely  from  New  England,  so  that  the  seed- 
bed of  New  England  is  the  seed-bed  of  this  great  republic 
and  of  all  that  is  likely  to  come  of  it." 

At  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century  there  was  a 
strong  impulse  of  migration  westward.  Astute  men  organ- 
ized companies  and  obtained  large  grants  of  land  which  they 
sold  to  emigrants  from  New  England.  There  was  much 
rivalry  among  these  companies  and  all  had  agents  competing 
keenly  for  settlers  to  buy  and  occupy  their  lands.  Thus  the 
interior  portions  of  New  York  and  Pennsylvania  were  swiftly 
changed  from  vast  wildernesses  to  prosperous  farming  regions 
dotted  with  villages. 

The  foundations  of  the  village  of  Hamilton,  New  York, 
were  laid  in  faith  and  prayer.  The  pioneers  of  the  place  were 
Samuel  Payne  and  his  wife,  who  came  from  New  England  in 
1794,  and  his  brother,  Elisha  Payne,  who  arrived  with  his 
family  a  year  later.  They  had  the  distinct  purpose  of  found- 
ing a  village. 

When  Samuel  Payne  had  felled  the  first  tree  upon  the  hill- 
side, in  the  primeval  forest  of  which  his  farm  was  a  part,  he 
knelt  and  consecrated  himself  and  his  estate  to  God.  In 
1827  he  and  his  wife  "gave  their  farm  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty-three  acres  to  the  Baptist  Education  Society  to  locate 


4  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

there  their  theological  institution.  The  whole  was  made  over 
to  the  society  by  a  warranty  deed,  they  reserving  to  them- 
selves the  use  of  one-half  of  the  farm  during  their  lives." 

No  one  knows  the  precise  point  where  the  first  tree  was 
felled,  but  it  was  within  certain  narrow  limits  near  the  col- 
lege building  first  erected,  which,  restored  and  beautified,  is 
still  in  use.  Upon  this  historic  spot  a  sun-dial,  suitably  in- 
scribed, was  placed  by  the  graduating  class  of  Colgate  Uni- 
versity in  191 2,  as  a  memorial  to  Samuel  Payne  and  his  wife, 
of  whom  it  was  said:  "Her  kindness  to  students  in  sickness 
or  in  need  gave  her  the  title  of  'The  Students'  Mother.'  " 

No  less  devout,  far-seeing,  and  steadfast  were  WUliam 
Colgate  and  his  wife,  who  were  interested  from  its  beginning 
in  the  theological  school  and  in  the  college  which  was  its 
necessary  and  inevitable  outgrowth.  Mr.  James  B.  Colgate, 
their  son,  late  in  his  life,  in  speaking  of  his  parents,  said  that 
at  the  morning  devotions  of  the  family,  led  either  by  the 
father  or  the  mother,  there  were  always  words  of  prayer  for 
the  school  of  sacred  learning  at  Hamilton. 

Elisha  Payne,  true  to  the  traditions  of  his  forefathers, 
after  building  his  own  log  dwelling,  proceeded  next  to  build 
a  schoolhouse.  This  schoolhouse  was,  no  doubt,  used  also  for 
religious  meetings,  as  the  church  was  not  built  until  1810. 

Similar  in  spirit  is  the  history  of  many  an  American  vil- 
lage, founded  by  descendants  of  the  early  colonists  of  New 
England. 

For  a  clear  understanding  of  Clarke's  ancestral  heritage, 
of  those  family  traditions  and  innate  gifts  that  made  him  the 
man  he  was,  one  must  revert  to  early  colonial  history  in 
New  England. 

In  the  nineteenth  century  every  educated  man  was  truly 
"the  heir  of  all  the  ages,"  but  this  reconciling  teacher,  who 
seemed  gifted  with  a  sympathetic  comprehension  of  every 
one's  point  of  view,  was  in  an  especial  manner  the  heir  of  the 


1 


ANCESTRY  AND   EARLY  LIFE  5 

seventeenth  century  which  witnessed  the  revolution  in  Eng- 
land, the  colonization  of  New  England,  and  the  fighting  over 
again  upon  new  territory  of  battle  after  battle  for  complete 
liberty  of  thought  and  speech.  Perhaps  he  owed  his  catho- 
licity to  those  diverse  and  antagonistic  ancestors,  whose  theo- 
logical and  political  differences,  transmitted  and  modified  from 
generation  to  generation,  were  harmonized  in  him. 

North  Brookfield,  a  town  of  Madison  County,  in  the  State 
of  New  York,  received  its  earliest  colonists  from  New  Eng- 
land in  the  last  decade  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Among 
the  first  settlers  was  Absalom  Miner,  a  descendant  of  Thomas 
]\Iiner,  who  came  from  England  with  Winthrop  on  the  Ara- 
bella in  1630.  Thomas  Miner  was  the  son  of  Clement  Miner, 
of  Chew  Magna,  Somerset,  head  of  the  elder  branch  of  a  fam- 
ily, which  had  held  an  honorable  place  among  the  gentry 
of  England  for  well  toward  three  hundred  years.  Thomas 
Miner  was  associated  with  John  Winthrop,  Jr.,  in  his  early 
colonizing  enterprises,  and  was  a  delegate  to  the  general  court 
from  each  of  the  several  places  in  which  he  resided.  He 
finally  settled  at  Stonington,  Connecticut,  being  one  of  the 
four  original  colonists  of  that  place.  Much  that  is  interesting 
is  known  of  Thomas  Miner,  and  a  large  number  of  persons 
useful  and  honored  in  their  place  and  time  traced  their  an- 
cestry to  him.  Among  them  the  names  most  widely  known 
are  Adoniram  Judson  and  Ulysses  S.  Grant. 

Somewhat  later  the  Clarke  family,  who  were  also  of  good 
English  lineage,  came  from  Rhode  Island  to  North  Brook- 
field.  They  were  descended  from  Jeremiah  Clarke,  one  of  the 
nine  heads  of  famihes  who  founded  Newport  and  helped  to 
create  Rhode  Island,  the  first  really  free  commonwealth  in 
the  New  World.  Jeremiah  Clarke  was  the  second  president 
of  "Rhode  Island  Plantations"  under  the  charter  of  1644, 
which  had  been  obtained  by  Roger  Williams.  The  Clarke 
and  the  Miner  famiUes  were  of  "the  Baptist  faith  and  order." 


6  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

They  were  closely  associated  in  all  afTairs  of  church  and  com- 
munity, and  there  were  three  marriages  between  sons  and 
daughters  of  Seth  Miner  and  John  Clarke. 

The  first  alliance  was  that  of  William  Clarke  and  Urania 
Miner,  who  were  married  March  21,  1830,  at  the  homestead 
in  Eaton,  near  Hamilton,  to  which  the  Miner  family  had  re- 
moved a  few  years  earlier. 

William  Clarke  was  a  young  man  of  recognized  ability. 
He  had  a  clear,  comprehensive  mind  and  an  unusual  degree  of 
tact  and  practical  wisdom.  When,  after  a  period  of  inner 
conflict,  he  ceased  to  resist  his  call  to  preach,  he  wished  to  fit 
himself  for  his  work  by  the  best  education  that  he  could  gain. 
A  school  of  theology  had  recently  been  founded  at  Hamilton, 
only  a  few  miles  distant.  His  soul  thirsted  to  drink  at  that 
fountain,  but  his  father,  like  many  another  good  man  of  his 
day,  held  an  old-fashioned  prejudice  against  a  "man-made 
ministry,"  and  there  were  other  obstacles  in  his  way.  So  he 
went  on  tilling  the  soil,  "improving  his  gift"  meanwhile  by 
preaching  as  he  had  opportunity  and  educating  himself  as 
best  he  could  by  independent  study.  He  had  a  good  command 
of  English  and  a  natural  ease  of  expression,  which  under  the 
influence  of  religious  feeling  became  glowing  eloquence.  His 
unfailing  good  sense  and  kindly,  cheerful  nature  endeared 
him  to  the  neighbors  who  had  known  him  all  his  life,  and  when 
the  pastorate  of  the  church  in  North  Brookfield  became 
vacant  he  was  called  to  fill  it.  This  call  was  conveyed  in  a 
letter  of  wonderful  quahty  which  reads  like  a  passage  from 
John  Woolman.    He  accepted  the  call  with  solemn  joy. 

As  a  spiritual  leader  in  the  conamunity  of  which  he  and 
his  wife  were  a  part,  and  which  they  well  understood,  he  was 
useful  and  happy. 

When  a  few  years  later  a  call  to  the  church  in  Cazenovia 
came  to  this  quiet,  unambitious  servant  of  God,  he  hesitated, 
with  the  self-distrust  of  a  modest  man.  He  and  his  wife  were 
fully  content  with  their  lot  and  would  have  chosen  to  spend 


ANCESTRY  AND   EARLY  LIFE  7 

their  days  in  the  place  which  had  always  been  dear  to  them. 
Yet  an  inner  monition  forbade  him  to  refuse  this  leading  of 
Providence,  as  he  felt  it  to  be. 

North  Brookfield  was  a  bit  of  New  England,  transplanted, 
but  Cazenovia  was  different  in  its  origin.  The  village  hbrary 
of  Cazenovia  is  housed  in  an  old  residence  on  Albany  Street. 
Its  parlor  is  now  the  distributing-room  of  the  library.  There, 
above  the  mantel,  hangs  a  painting  that  is  an  interesting  re- 
minder of  the  history  of  the  town.  It  is  a  copy  of  an  original 
portrait  of  Theophilus  Cazenove  (Theophile  de  Cazenove), 
which  was  presented  by  his  grandson,  Raoul  de  Cazenove,  of 
Lyons.  It  shows  a  young  man  of  aristocratic  appearance 
with  a  pleasing  face,  fair  complexion,  light-brown  hair  in  a 
queue,  clad  in  a  suit  of  pale-blue  velvet.  He  does  not  look 
like  a  pioneer  or  explorer,  nor  was  he  such.  He  was,  in  his 
maturer  years,  the  first  agent  in  this  country  of  the  Holland 
Land  Company.  John  Lincklaen  (Jan  van  Lincklaen)  was 
the  explorer  of  the  region  and  the  founder  of  Cazenovia.  He 
was  bom  in  Amsterdam  in  1768,  received  his  early  education 
in  Switzerland,  entered  the  Dutch  navy  and  attained  the  rank 
of  lieutenant.  In  1792  he  emigrated  to  America.  He  was  em- 
ployed by  the  Holland  Land  Company,  explored  and  sur- 
veyed some  of  their  lands  and  was  made  their  agent  upon 
the  retirement  of  Theophilus  Cazenove,  who  became  pos- 
sessed of  a  tract  of  land  bordering  upon  the  lake,  and  in 
honor  of  whom  the  town  was  named. 

A  dignified  colonial  mansion  was  built  in  1807-8  by  John 
Lincklaen  upon  the  upland  beyond  the  foot  of  the  lake,  which 
facing  northward,  commands  a  fine  view  of  the  lake  in  its 
picturesque  setting  of  varied  shoreland.  In  the  autumn  of 
1808  this  new  dwelling  was  occupied  by  the  owner,  his  wife 
and  their  adopted  son,  the  youngest  brother  of  Mrs.  Linck- 
laen, then  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  Jonathan  Denise  Led- 
yard,  known  in  later  years  as  General  Ledyard.  His  son, 
Ledyard  Lincklaen,  Esq.,  a  man  of  studious  and  literary 


8  WELLLVM  NEWTOX  CLARKE 

tastes,  who  made  valuable  contributions  to  knowledge  of 
the  geology  of  the  region,  inherited  the  name  and  the  abode 
of  John  Lincklaen,  which  has  always  been  the  home  of  the 
daughter  of  Ledyard  Lincklaen,  Mrs.  Charles  S.  Fairchild. 
This  house  of  fine  traditions  has  been  kept  externally  as  it 
was  at  first  and,  with  its  simple,  restful  lines,  is  one  of  the 
best  examples  now  remaining  of  the  colonial  domestic  archi- 
tecture of  the  period  to  which  it  belongs. 

John  Lincklaen  was  a  broad-minded,  far-seeing,  practical 
man  and  he  began  at  once  to  make  the  site  he  had  selected 
for  a  settlement  habitable  and  attractive.  "He  laid  out 
roads,  built  bridges,  mills,  and  warehouses,"  and  thus  averted 
the  chief  privations  and  hardships  of  pioneer  Hfe.  Also,  he 
offered  land  to  young  householders  upon  Hberal  terms.  Some 
Dutch  names  appear  in  the  list  of  early  settlers,  although  the 
larger  number  are  of  those  familiar  in  the  colonial  annals  of 
New  England.  The  settlement  began  with  this  great  advan- 
tage, that  no  one  class  or  sect  brought  thither  its  own  nar- 
rowness in  sufficient  strength  to  stamp  its  character  upon  the 
place. 

The  site  of  the  village  was  well  chosen.  The  beautiful 
lake  of  which  the  Lidian  name  is  Owahgena,  forms  its  west- 
em  boundary. 

Lake  Avenue  intersects  Albany  Street,  and  running  north- 
ward affords  views  of  the  lake  along  its  entire  length.  Parallel, 
eastward,  is  Sullivan  Street,  now  a  place  of  pleasant,  mod- 
ern houses.  Still  farther  east  is  Lincklaen  Street,  with  some- 
thing of  an  old-time  air  and  a  charm  of  its  own,  which  like 
the  others  slowly  ascends  from  Albany  Street,  and  reaches 
the  open  country  at  the  summit  of  the  hill  to  surprise  the 
newcomer  with  a  fine  and  extended  outlook  northward  and 
eastward. 

The  water  of  the  lake,  welling  up  from  many  springs,  is 
clear  and  pure.  Its  outlet  is  a  small  stream  which  meets 
another  stream  near  by.   Together  they  become  Chittenango 


ANCESTRY  AND   EARLY  LIFE  9 

Creek,  which  flows  rapidly  down  through  a  picturesque  valley 
and  makes  a  leap  of  a  hundred  and  thirty-six  feet  from  its 
rocky  bed,  through  a  gateway  of  cliffs,  into  the  verdurous 
gorge  below.  Not  even  in  the  White  Mountains  is  there  a 
more  charming  cascade  than  Chittenango  Falls. 

The  region  around  Cazenovia  has  a  varied  and  singular 
attractiveness  which  every  lover  of  nature  feels  but  cannot 
easily  define,  and  it  is  of  unusual  geological  interest.  Perry- 
ville  Falls,  not  far  away,  on  another  stream  now  greatly  dev- 
astated by  the  blasting  away  of  limestone  rocks  filled  with 
ancient  marine  fossils,  was  formerly  very  like  Trenton  Falls, 
having  a  similar  approach  along  a  natural  gallery  of  rock, 
though  on  a  smaller  scale.  Delphi  Falls,  a  few  miles  west- 
ward, with  its  yellow-brown  rocks,  golden  in  the  sun,  has  a 
unique  beauty. 

William  Clarke  removed  to  Cazenovia  in  the  summer  of 
1835  3.nd  was  cordially  welcomed  by  the  church,  which  had 
among  its  leaders  some  of  the  most  truly  excellent  men  and 
women  in  the  village  and  upon  the  farms  outside.  Among 
these  were  the  Litchfields,  the  Mitchells,  the  Beckwiths,  and 
the  Newtons. 

The  power  of  the  new  pastor  as  a  preacher,  his  every-day 
goodness  and  friendliness,  won  for  him  the  respect  and  good- 
will of  the  entire  community  without  regard  to  denomina- 
tional differences,  which  were  then  much  emphasized.  His 
"wisdom  in  counsel"  came  to  be  highly  valued,  and  his  aid 
was  often  sought  in  settling  differences  which  arose  in  neigh- 
boring churches. 

The  eldest  child  had  died  in  North  Brookfield.  The  sec- 
ond, Mary  Eleanor,  was  born  in  1839,  and  the  third,  William 
Newton  in  1841  in  the  parsonage  on  Nelson  Street.  The  sec- 
ond daughter,  Delia  Maria,  was  born  in  1843  '^^  the  new  par- 
sonage on  Lincklaen  Street,  which  was  almost  under  the 
shadow  of  the  seminary,  and  very  near  the  Baptist  church. 

The  minister's   salary  was  small   and   irregularly  paid. 


lo  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

There  were  steadfast  friends  and  generous  givers  in  the 
church,  but  the  majority  had  inherited  the  idea,  which  they 
were  only  slowly  outgrowing,  that  a  minister's  service  should 
be  freely  given  without  requital.  The  early  preachers  of  the 
denomination,  like  Pardon  Tillinghast,  an  ancestor  of  Wil- 
liam Clarke,  the  early  pastor  of  the  First  Baptist  Church  of 
Providence,  Rhode  Island,  revolting  against  a  state  church 
and  a  tithe  system,  had  preached  the  Word  like  the  early 
apostles,  without  money  and  without  price,  and  most  of 
them,  like  Paul,  had  lived  by  the  labor  of  their  own  hands. 
A  "hireling  ministry"  was  as  abhorrent  to  the  early  Baptists 
as  to  the  Quakers. 

When  there  were  three  children  to  be  cared  for  these  par- 
ents felt  the  pinch  of  narrow  means.  Fortunately,  both  were 
good  economists,  and  Mrs.  Clarke's  excellent  early  training 
stood  her  in  good  stead.  The  small  income  was  made  to  suf- 
fice. "Plain  living  and  high  thinking"  was  their  daily,  blessed 
portion.  Plain  li\dng,  however,  was  not  poor  living.  The 
things  most  important  and  necessary  could  be  had.  By  wise 
management  the  family  were  well  fed,  well  clad,  and  in  that 
climate,  arctic  in  winter,  well  warmed.  But  the  mother  had 
to  work  early  and  late  while  the  children  were  young.  The 
word  servant  did  not  exist  in  the  vocabulary  of  that  family, 
though  sometimes,  when  the  need  was  great,  the  old-time 
American  "help"  came  to  the  mother's  aid. 

In  Sixty  Years  with  tlie  Bible,  Doctor  Clarke  writes  thus  of 
his  parents: 

"My  father,  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  was  constantly  in 
communion  with  the  Book,  though  he  talked  little  of  his  work. 
He  was  not  a  highly  educated  man,  but  he  was  a  man  of 
sweet  reasonableness,  and  his  theories  of  doctrine  were  tem- 
pered in  application  with  a  fine  practical  wisdom.  I  suppose 
he  must  have  had  some  theory  of  inspiration,  but  he  never 
made  the  value  of  the  Bible  depend  upon  it.  He  had  no  need 
of  the  theory  for  he  was  building  upon  the  reality.     There 


ANCESTRY  AND  EARLY  LIFE  ii 

was  God's  own  message  and  for  him  and  for  my  mother  the 
Bible  was  the  last  word.  She,  reared  in  the  godhness  of  an 
earlier  day,  carried  the  Bible  in  mind  and  heart.  She  was  not 
always  quoting  it,  but  for  guidance  of  her  Hfe  and  ours  it  was 
always  with  her. 

"It  is  true  that  she  was  in  unconscious  bondage  because 
the  Bible  brought  her  the  spirit  of  Judaism,  as  well  as  the 
Christian  faith,  and  not  until  old  age  did  she  come  out  into  the 
liberty  of  the  children  of  God,  but  with  a  willing  loyalty  she 
held  the  Bible  as  her  law  as  well  as  the  Christian  faith.  Rev- 
erence for  it  was  learned  from  both  parents.  It  was  never  a 
theme  for  jests  and  I  grew  up  with  almost  a  horror  of  joking 
on  Biblical  subjects.  About  the  Bible  there  was  a  holy  air 
which  to  us  children  was  attractive,  not  repellent.  Bible 
stories  we  easily  learned,  and  they  were  true.  We  did  not 
question  as  to  whether  they  were  easily  believed  or  were 
worthy  of  God. 

"I  cannot  remember  when  I  could  not  read  nor  when  the 
Bible  was  not  in  my  hands  for  reading.  My  earliest  remem- 
brance of  it  brings  up  the  picture  of  family  worship.  How 
clear  it  is  and  how  calm  and  beautiful ! " 

The  three  children  were  nurtured  tenderly  and  wisely. 
They  had  a  quietly  happy  childhood  in  an  atmosphere  of 
family  affection  and  reverent  religion.  The  key-note  of  the 
life  of  the  family  was  reality — everything  that  was  said  or 
done  must  ring  true.  One  saying  of  the  father  has  never 
been  forgotten:  "If  a  boy  is  obedient  and  truthful  at  the  age 
of  twelve  he  is  half  brought  up." 

This  boy  was  naturally  docile,  reverent,  and  straightfor- 
ward and  responsive  to  the  high  ideals  held  up  to  him.  He 
was  always  companionable,  but  he  was  not  strong  and  agile 
enough  to  succeed  in  boyish  sports.  A  severe  illness  when  he 
was  two  years  old  left  his  right  side  partially  paralyzed.  For 
a  time  he  was  unable  to  walk  or  to  use  his  right  hand.  Only 
the  devoted,  unremitting  care  of  his  mother  brought  him  back 
to  a  normal  physical  condition.  Naturally,  the  earliest  play- 
mates of  this  delicate  boy  were  girls,  his  sisters  and  two  neigh- 


12  WILLL\M  NEWTON  CLARKE 

bors,  Louise  and  Frances,  who  were  much  at  home  in  the 
parsonage  and  the  garden. 

One  of  the  books  in  wliich  they  all  took  delight  was  Mary 
Hewitt's  Juvenile  Days,  in  which  several  of  her  other  stories 
were  included.  This  had  been  given  to  the  youngest  child 
as  a  reward  for  tr}'ing  to  be  careful  and  helpful  while  her 
mother  was  seriously  ill.  After  the  difficult  time  was  over 
her  father  took  her  to  the  bookstore  and  bade  her  choose 
whatever  book  she  wished.  Jiivenile  Days  was  her  choice, 
and  it  became  a  favorite  with  the  family  and  the  neighbor- 
hood. The  original  binding  had  been  worn  out  and  the  book 
had  been  rebound.  The  neat  outside  contrasted  strangely 
with  the  inside.  Every  page  was  worn  and  bore  the  marks 
of  ha\'ing  been  read,  as  Louisa  Alcott  says  of  her  own  early 
favorites,  "to  an  accompaniment  of  cookies,  gingerbread, 
and  apples." 

In  this  friendly  vicinage  a  genial  interchange  of  good 
literature  and  other  good  things  was  kept  up. 

Li  the  autumn  of  1852,  after  fifteen  years  in  Cazenovia, 
William  Clarke  accepted  a  call  to  a  church  in  Whitesboro. 
There  William,  junior,  settled  down  to  regular  school  work, 
and  it  was  soon  evident  that  he  had  in  him  the  stufi'  that 
makes  a  student.  The  seminary  in  Cazenovia  was  a  better 
place  for  the  Clarke  children  than  any  school  in  WTiitesboro; 
and  when  the  church  in  Cazenovia  sent  their  former  pastor 
an  urgent  appeal  to  return  to  them,  the  question  was  ear- 
nestly considered.  The  church  in  Whitesboro  had  been  loyal 
and  generous.  While  the  pastor  had  ministered  faithfully 
to  them  in  spiritual  things,  they  had  ministered  to  him  liber- 
ally in  temporal  things.  To  return  to  Cazenovia  meant  tak- 
ing up  heavy  burdens  again,  but  Cazenovia  was  home  and 
the  people  were  dear,  and  there  was  the  excellent  school  for 
their  children,  and  thither  they  returned. 

The  Oneida  Conference  Seminary  was  famous  among  de- 
nominational schools,  which  were  then  at  the  highest  point 


00 


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ANCESTRY  AND   EARLY  LIFE  13 

of  their  excellence  and  usefulness.  It  was  one  of  several 
which  had  been  established  by  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church.  From  the  first,  its  teachers  had  been  men  and 
women  of  fine  character  who  had  left  their  impress  upon 
their  pupils  and  upon  the  community.  As  it  was  a  coedu- 
cational school,  much  attention  was  given  to  music  and  art. 
In  the  early  days  of  the  seminary  a  well-trained  foreign  artist 
had  taught  drawing  and  painting  and  had  so  imbued  his 
pupils  with  his  ideals  and  standards  that  Cazenovia  was 
rather  unusual  as  to  the  interest  in  art  diffused  among  the 
younger  generation.  Love  of  art  nourished  the  love  of  nature. 
Artists  began  to  visit  Cazenovia,  and  thus  the  eyes  of  the  resi- 
dents were  opened  to  the  rarely  beautiful  scenery  close  at 
hand.  The  isolated  little  village  developed  year  by  year  a 
distinction  and  attractiveness  all  its  own. 

In  very  modest  homes  in  Cazenovia  were  persons  of  fas- 
cinating individuality  and  charm.  To  an  impressionable 
newcomer  who  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  welcomed  in  some 
of  these  little  white  houses  under  great  elms,  the  village  life 
seemed  wonderfully  bright  and  amiable.  At  almost  any  social 
gathering,  an  impromptu  tea  or  an  elaborate  entertainment, 
there  might  be  good  music — there  was  certain  to  be  good  con- 
versation. People  lived  then  in  a  leisurely  fashion,  they  had 
time  and  opportunity  to  know  their  neighbors,  and  friendship, 
a  plant  which  cannot  be  forced,  could  grow  in  its  own  natural 
way.  On  Lincklaen  Street,  with  its  green  lawns  and  tall  elm^s, 
dwelt  several  of  the  seminary  faculty,  and  others  were  not 
far  away.  They  lived  like  the  ministers  of  the  place  on  small 
salaries,  and  the  wives  of  these  men,  like  their  neighbor  in  the 
parsonage,  had  to  plan  carefully  and  work  untiringly,  yet 
they  filled  their  places  with  dignity  and  did  their  part  in 
making  the  social  life  noble  and  beautiful. 

The  Baptist  parsonage  was  a  plain  frame  house  with  a 
garden  at  the  back.  The  dwellings  on  either  side  were  rather 
close  to  the  parsonage,  which,  facing  the  north,  had  little  sun- 


14  WILLL\M  NEWTON  CLARKE 

shine  in  the  rooms  most  used.  Mrs.  Clarke,  who  had  been 
accustomed  through  all  her  early  life  to  a  broad  outlook  over 
a  beautiful  landscape,  often  felt  depressed  by  the  lack  of 
space  and  light.  There  was,  however,  from  the  east  windows 
of  an  upper  room,  at  the  back  of  the  house,  a  pleasant  view, 
across  an  interval  to  the  hills  beyond,  and  when  the  feeUng 
of  depression  came  over  her,  she  would  drop  the  task  in  hand 
for  a  Uttle  while  and  at  one  of  those  windows  that  looked 
toward  the  morning  refresh  her  spirit  with  the  breadth  and 
beauty  of  meadow  and  hills. 

Upon  the  return  of  the  Clarke  family  to  Cazenovia,  Mary 
and  William  entered  the  seminary.  At  that  time  the  most 
marked  character  upon  the  faculty  was  Ammi  Bradford 
Hyde,  a  descendant  of  Elder  William  Brewster  of  the  May- 
flower. He  was  a  brilliant  man,  distinguished  especially  as 
a  linguist,  but  versatile  in  his  abiUties.  Some  stories  of  his 
precocity  remind  one  of  similar  things  recorded  of  Macau- 
lay.  In  1846  he  was  graduated  from  Wesleyan  University. 
In  the  autumn  of  that  year,  when  he  was  twenty  years  old, 
he  entered  Cazenovia  Seminary  as  professor  of  languages. 
Under  this  stimulating  teacher,  Clarke  studied  Latin,  Greek, 
and  German. 

There  were  other  scholarly  men  and  born  educators  in 
the  seminary,  and  the  atmosphere  was  full  of  hope  and  in- 
spiration. Though  William  was  chiefly  interested  in  lan- 
guages, he  did  not  do  badly  in  mathematics  and  he  learned  a 
little  of  several  branches  of  science.  Next,  however,  to  his 
classical  studies,  that  which  aided  him  most  in  his  develop- 
ment was  his  work  in  the  Lyceum.  The  papers  that  he  wrote 
and  the  debates  in  which  he  took  part,  with  the  habit  gained 
thus  early  in  life  of  swift,  simultaneous  thought  and  expres- 
sion, made  an  invaluable  part  of  his  training. 

Mrs.  Stowe's  description  of  "Cloudland,"  the  scholarship 
and  devotion  of  its  teachers,  and  the  eager  responsiveness  of 
its  students,  was  a  true  picture  of  the  Litchfield  Academy  in 


ANCESTRY  AND  EARLY  LIFE  15 

her  very  early  years.  Cazenovia  was  "Cloudland"  on  a 
larger  scale.  There  was  a  generous  freedom  as  to  choice  of 
studies.  Most  of  the  students  worked  pleasurably  at  what 
they  liked,  with  little  regard  to  marks  and  examinations.  No 
question  had  as  yet  arisen  as  to  the  desirability  of  coeduca- 
tion. It  had  existed  from  the  first  in  the  public  schools  and 
in  the  numerous  academies  and  had  been  the  only  possible 
way  to  reach  and  educate  the  youth  of  the  land. 

The  school  was  avowedly  and  markedly  religious,  and  its 
denominational  character,  while  not  obtrusive,  was  in  nowise 
obscured.  The  warm  and  demonstrative  qualities  of  Meth- 
odism characterized  the  place.  Teachers  worked  fervently 
for  the  conversion  of  students  and  the  upbuilding  of  all  in 
the  Christian  life.  Students  from  various  denominations, 
meeting  here  upon  common  ground,  found  that  they  agreed 
as  to  essential  points  and  that  their  differences  were  unim- 
portant; so,  insensibly,  they  grew  more  Hberal.  No  one  was 
permitted  to  be  a  sheep  without  a  shepherd.  All  were  ex- 
pected to  attend  the  churches  to  which  they  were  accustomed, 
and  if  they  were  unattached  they  were  taken  into  the  Meth- 
odist fold.  Leading  members  of  the  various  churches  in  the 
village  felt  a  certain  responsibility  for  the  young  people  who 
came  to  them,  and  exercised  over  them  friendly  care. 

Doctor  Clarke  was  invited  to  give  an  address  at  a  semicen- 
tennial celebration  of  the  Cazenovia  Seminary  in  1908.  He 
was  unable  to  be  present,  but  he  sent  a  letter  from  which  ex- 
tracts are  given. 

"Colgate  University, 

"Hamilton,  N.  Y.,  June,  1908. 

"My  Dear  Doctor  Blakeslee: 

"I  am  thankful  for  the  invitation  to  stand  as  the  repre- 
sentative of  a  past  age,  and  recall  the  memories  of  fifty  years, 
and  only  regret  that  I  cannot  present  my  remembrances  in 
person.  When  I  look  back  my  memory  goes  beyond  the  half 
century  and  sees  in  1854  a  young  boy,  not  quite  thirteen  years 


i6  WILLIAiM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

old,  living  at  home  in  Cazenovia,  knocking  at  the  door  of  the 
seminary.  How  puzzled  the  boy  was — and  not  without  rea- 
son. I  had  resolved  to  begin  Latin  and  study  arithmetic. 
But  the  two  classes  came  at  the  same  hour,  and  both  were 
too  large  to  be  changed,  so  I  was  compelled  to  abandon  one 
of  them.  The  school  gave  no  advice,  and  I  let  the  arithmetic 
wait.  One  thing  led  to  another,  and  in  consequence  of  this 
accident  the  order  and  succession  of  my  studies  for  four 
years  went  very  strangely,  and  I  was  trained  in  a  course  such 
as  no  one  else  ever  pursued  since  the  world  began.  Perhaps 
it  may  have  been  just  as  well,  but  I  am  glad  there  is  a  better 
way  now. 

"That  shows  how  much  less  regularly  organized  the 
school  was  than  it  has  since  become.  There  was  a  published 
course  of  study;  there  were  two,  in  fact,  a  three-years'  course 
and  a  j5ve-years'  course;  but  the  five-years'  course  did  not 
cut  much  of  a  figure  outside  of  the  catalogue.  The  school 
was  larger  than  now,  and  was  especially  large  in  the  winter 
terms.  The  chapel  was  crammed  full.  I  can  see  the  plat- 
form now.  The  teachers  looked  to  us  very  solemn  as  they 
faced  us.  Professors  Hyde  and  White,  and  Doctor  Bannister 
first,  and  later  Professor  Andrews  as  principal.  Professor 
Jackson  sat  in  front  of  the  organ  with  his  flute  and  led  the 
singing.  During  a  part  of  my  time  I  used  to  play  the  organ. 
I  was  interested  in  the  throng,  and  knew  all  the  boys  by 
name,  and  many  of  the  girls  in  every  term.  I  remembered 
the  changing  crowd  from  term  to  term,  and  carried  much 
of  the  school  history  in  mind.  The  friendships  were  short- 
lived, many  of  them,  but  some  lived  long,  and  a  few  survive 
all  these  years. 

"The  vision  of  deepest  interest  to  me  in  connection  with 
school  work  looks  in  upon  the  little  room  over  the  principal's 
office  where  we  met  Professor  Hyde.  Some  of  the  classes 
packed  it  full.  There  I  was  started  in  Latin,  Greek,  and  Ger- 
man. There  we  had  to  do  with  a  most  fatherly,  friendly  man, 
a  master  of  his  languages,  a  teacher  of  individuals,  a  wit  who 
brightened  up  his  work,  a  living  guide  and  an  inspiring  ex- 
ample. Much  as  I  enjoyed  the  hours,  I  used  to  wonder  that 
he  took  the  time  to  tell  so  many  stories  and  make  us  laugh  so 
much.  But  later,  when  I  realized  what  a  killing  number  of 
hours  he  spent  with  his  classes  in  that  room,  I  judged  that 


ANCESTRY  AND   EARLY  LIFE  17 

perhaps  he  let  in  the  wit  in  order  to  keep  himself  aHve,  and 
I  did  not  blame  him.  After  I  had  been  out  of  his  room  for 
almost  forty  years  I  went  out  of  my  way  one  day  in  Colorado 
to  call  upon  Professor  Hyde  and  tell  him  what  I  thought  of 
him,  which  I  had  never  had  an  opportunity  to  do. 

''  The  long  mathematical  rooms  at  the  north  end  on  Linck- 
laen  Street  witnessed  the  equally  strong  and  faithful  work 
of  Professor  White,  continued  till  the  very  last  days  of  his 
life.  I  know  the  place,  for  I  did  take  the  arithmetic  after  a 
while,  and  ended  with  surveying. 

"As  there  was  no  fixed  course  in  use,  the  graduating  class 
was  made  up  by  collecting  those  who  had  done  enough  to 
equal  the  amount  of  the  course  as  published.  Now  and  then 
there  was  a  graduate  from  the  five-years'  course,  but  there 
was  none  in  our  year.  In  1858  there  were  twelve  graduates, 
sLx  young  men  and  six  young  women.  My  sister  IVIary,  older 
than  I,  who  was  a  teacher  in  the  seminary  for  a  time,  was 
among  them.    I  was  the  youngest  of  the  twelve. 

"I  have  two  visions  of  Professor  Andrews  as  we  called 
him  then,  Bishop  Andrews  in  later  years.  I  see  him  as  he 
stood  addressing  us  on  our  graduation  day,  July  15,  1858,  in 
the  old  stone  Methodist  church  with  the  platform  between 
the  front  doors.  Handsome,  flashing,  eloquent,  he  gave  us 
wise  counsel  out  of  a  warm  heart,  and  bade  us  farewell.  I 
see  him  again  as  I  saw  him  for  the  last  time,  in  New  York, 
after  he  had  lived  a  long  life  of  high  service — handsome  still, 
but  far  more,  a  lovely  presence,  serious,  dignified,  graceful, 
beautiful  in  a  ripe  old  age. 

"I  have  sweet  remembrances  of  the  tender  and  beautiful 
religious  revival  that  occurred  in  the  spring  of  1858,  in  my 
last  term.  My  own  religious  experience  then  began,  in  meet- 
ings of  the  young  men  in  the  old  western  building,  replaced  by 
the  present  Callanan  Hall.  Very  delightful  are  the  memories 
of  that  time. 

"Even  now  I  can  feel  the  inexpressibly  tender  solemnity 
of  the  Saturday  evening  class-meetings  in  the  chapel,  with 
Professor  Hyde  as  leader,  wise  Christian  counsellor  that  he 
was.  Out  of  that  same  spring  term  of  1858  there  came  a 
rather  formal  document  that  Ues  before  me  now.  It  bears 
the  signature  of  twenty-two  young  men,  who  have  formed 
sacred    ties   of   friendship   while   students  in   the   seminary 


i8  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

(Oneida  Conference  Seminary  we  called  it  then),  and  are 
desirous  of  renewing  and  perpetuating  the  same.  To  this 
end  they  agree  to  appear  in  person  at  the  seminary,  in  the 
town  of  Cazenovia  and  the  State  of  New  York,  on  the  6th 
day  of  July,  1864,  and  appoint  ten  of  their  number  to  ad- 
dress them  on  that  day  of  their  reunion.  Topics  for  the  ad- 
dresses are  assigned,  schoolboy  fashion :  '  Success,' '  Harmony,' 
'Government,'  'Object  in  Life,'  etc.,  besides  opening  ad- 
dresses, poem,  and  valedictory.  Six  years  seemed  a  long 
time  ahead,  but  the  friendly  assembhng  of  ourselves  seemed 
not  too  much  to  be  accomplished  by  the  mature  men  whom 
we  expected  then  to  be.  Alas,  we  could  not  know  that  the 
greatest  war  of  the  century  would  be  three-fourths  fought 
through  when  the  day  arrived,  or  how  much  the  appointed 
expounder  of  'Events  of  the  Past  Six  Years'  would  have  to 
say.  Nor  could  we  foresee  our  personal  destinies.  We 
pledged  our  word  and  sacred  honor  to  meet  'if  life  and 
health  permit;'  and  yet  there  was  no  meeting  on  July  6, 
1864. 

"Here  I  must  end.  It  is  a  pleasant,  wholesome  circle  into 
which  I  look,  for  our  life  in  the  main  was  sweet  and  pure  and 
honorable,  and  the  school  was  a  school  of  right  living.  The 
living  God  was  training  his  children  up  to  hfe.  The  review 
has  been  a  pleasure  to  me,  but  it  does  not  seem  possible  that 
I  am  gazing  through  a  whole  half  century,  so  clearly  do  I  see 
the  scenes  and  forms  and  faces,  and  so  freshly  does  the  long- 
vanished  life  rise  before  my  sight.  As  God  was  with  the 
fathers,  so  may  he  be  with  the  children,  and  may  education 
here  still  be  a  healthful  training  for  a  faithful  work. 

"With  the  greetings  of  the  past  to  the  present,  I  am, 
"Sincerely  yours, 

"William  N.  Clarke." 

At  an  earlier  time  Charles  Dudley  Warner  and  Robert 
Ingersoll  had  been  boys  in  Cazenovia  and  students  in  the 
seminary.  Warner,  after  preparing  at  Cazenovia,  entered 
Hamilton  College  at  Chnton,  New  York,  where  he  gradu- 
ated. He  always  loved  Cazenovia  and  sometimes  came  there 
to  visit  the  friends  of  his  youth.  His  coming  was  the  signal 
for  a  general  fete-making.     Some  of  those  he  valued  much 


ANCESTRY  AND   EARLY  LIFE  19 

were  quiet,  unfashionable  persons  who  were  seldom  seen  at 
large  or  formal  receptions,  and  those  who  entertained  "Char- 
lie" Warner  used  to  take  especial  pains  to  bring  these  old 
friends  to  meet  him. 

Among  American  men  of  letters  of  his  day  there  has  been 
no  more  lovable  example  of  "the  gentle  life"  than  Charles 
Dudley  Warner;  and  the  bright  intelligence,  the  simple,  yet 
exquisite,  living  in  homes  with  which  he  was  familiar,  the 
devout  atmosphere  in  church  and  school,  the  beautiful  sur- 
roundings of  the  fine  old  village,  where  he  spent  the  most 
impressionable  years  of  his  life,  made  a  congenial  environ- 
ment for  that  charming  spirit.  Some  who  know  and  love  his 
books  find  in  them  a  flavor  of  Cazenovia,  New  Englander 
though  he  was  by  birth,  and  by  residence  through  all  his 
later  years. 

Robert  IngersoU  was  the  son  of  a  Cazenovia  minister. 
The  father  spent  only  a  few  years  in  the  village,  was  a  clerical 
free-lance  and  was  for  a  time  the  leader  of  the  Free  Church, 
a  nondescript  company  made  up  chiefly  of  seceders  from  the 
long-established,  steady-going  churches  of  the  place.  Some 
of  them  were  excellent  persons  who  had  become  obsessed  by 
one  idea  and  felt  aggrieved  because  that  which  seemed  to 
them  aU-important  was  not  sufiiciently  emphasized  in  the 
churches  to  which  they  belonged.  Some  could  think  of 
nothing  but  the  evils  of  the  liquor  traffic,  some  believed  that 
the  Masonic  Order  was  the  most  dangerous  menace  of  the 
time,  and  some  wished  to  hear  of  nothing  but  the  sin  of  slave- 
holding.  Some  were  merely  discontented  or  erratic.  This 
was  the  church  which  represented  Christianity  to  Robert 
IngersoU  in  his  boyhood.  There  were  benign  idealists  be- 
longing to  it,  but  the  cranky,  censorious  elements  were  in  the 
foreground.  His  mother,  who  was  remembered  as  a  noble 
woman,  had  died  early.  His  father  was  morose  and  harsh, 
and  he  was  one  of  several  motherless  children  in  a  cheer- 
less home.    What  wonder  that  his  keen,  clear  mind,  rejected 


20  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

the  dogmas  that  were  forced  upon  him,  or  that,  when  he  had 
become  a  popular  orator,  he  held  up  to  scorn  and  execration 
a  caricature  of  the  religion  that  he  never  understood  ? 

In  tlie  autumn  of  1858  Clarke  entered  college  at  Hamil- 
ton as  a  sophomore.  He  depicted  the  college  life  of  his  day 
and  paid  tribute  to  the  men  of  his  class  upon  its  fiftieth  anni- 
versary in  a  charming  address  at  commencement  in  June, 
191 2.  His  was  the  class  of  1861  and  a  large  proportion  of  his 
classmates  enlisted  in  the  Union  Army  at  the  first  call  to 
arms,  several  of  whom  laid  down  their  Hves  early  in  the  con- 
flict. His  close  friend,  Arthur  Brooks,  was  one  of  the  first  to 
die.  He  was  a  son  of  the  Reverend  Walter  Brooks,  pastor  of 
the  Baptist  Church  in  Hamilton,  and  this  personal  bereave- 
ment, for  such  it  was  to  Clarke,  affected  him  deeply.  The 
Civil  War,  in  which  largely  perished  the  flower  of  American 
youth,  both  North  and  South,  was  a  long  agony  to  every 
sensitive  soul,  and  the  experiences  of  those  four  years  were 
the  most  profound  and  pervasive  element  in  the  education 
of  the  young  men  and  young  women  of  the  time.  Those  who 
lived  through  it  have  carried  in  their  iimiost  selves  something 
which  the  younger  generation  cannot  comprehend. 

College  life  at  that  period  was  much  the  same  throughout 
the  land.  The  curriculum  at  Harvard  and  Yale  was  a  trifle 
more  exacting  than  in  small  and  isolated  colleges,  but  the 
classic  tongues  and  higher  mathematics  could  be  studied  any- 
where, and  also  the  chief  modern  languages.  As  to  science, 
in  most  places  students  could  make  only  a  slight  beginning. 

Louis  Agassiz  and  Asa  Gray  were  doing  pioneer  work  at 
Harvard  and  showing  how  to  investigate.  Of  the  new  chem- 
istry only  vague  foregleams  had  appeared  to  the  most  ad- 
vanced workers.  Personality  counted  for  far  more  at  that 
time  than  it  counts  for  to-day,  and  some  of  the  smaller  col- 
leges were  blessed  with  great  teachers.  At  Hamilton,  Doctor 
Alexander  Beebee  gave  his  students  good  training  in  logic 
and   something   of   philosophy.     That   remarkable   linguist, 


ANCESTRY  AND   EARLY  LIFE  21 

William  I.  Elnapp,  still  a  very  young  man,  was  teaching  mod- 
ern languages.     Under  him  Clarke  studied  Spanish. 

The  good  preparation  that  Clarke  had  gained  at  Caze- 
novia  enabled  him  to  carry  his  college  work  easily  and  gave 
him  time  for  recreation,  reading,  and  good  fellowship.  The 
latter  he  found  cliiefly  and  most  keenly  enjoyed  among  his 
confreres  of  the  D.  K.  E.  society.  Secret  societies  were  for- 
bidden to  exist  at  Madison  University,  as  the  college  was 
then  named,  but  the  Mu  chapter  was  created  there  with  the 
aid  of  some  members  of  that  fraternity  in  Hamilton  College 
at  Clinton,  not  far  away.  Clarke,  social  and  fun-loving,  was 
one  of  the  early  members  and  entered  heartily  into  the  game 
of  keeping  up  the  secret  meetings  and  eluding  the  college  au- 
thorities, who  soon  began  to  suspect  what  was  going  on. 
The  story  of  the  early  days  of  the  Mu  chapter  of  Delta 
Kappa  Epsilon — its  apparent  extinction,  its  resuscitation  and 
precarious  life  while  under  the  ban  of  professorial  authority, 
its  final  triumph  and  open  recognition  and  acceptance  by  the 
college  faculty — was  a  Hvely  episode  in  the  student  life  of  the 
time  and  made  an  amusing  piece  of  college  history. 

At  college  Clarke  made  some  lifelong  friendships.  Among 
those  who  entered  college  upon  the  same  day  with  him  was 
Newton  Lloyd  Andrews,  who  was  made  professor  of  Greek 
immediately  after  his  graduation,  and  who,  after  fifty  years 
of  service  still  remains  at  his  post  as  head  of  the  department 
of  Greek  and  lecturer  on  art.  To  him  it  fell  to  pay  a  beauti- 
ful tribute  to  his  friend  and  colleague  in  an  address  to  the 
students  of  Colgate  University  immediately  after  the  death 
of  Doctor  Clarke  became  known. 

Graduated  with  his  class  at  the  commencement  in  '61, 
Clarke  entered  the  Hamilton  Theological  Seminary  in  the 
autumn  of  the  same  year  and  finished  his  theological  course 
in  the  summer  of  '63.  He  was  settled  in  Keene  before  he  was 
twenty-two  years  old,  but  was  not  ordained  until  January 
14,  1863. 


22  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

Of  this  period  in  his  life  Doctor  Clarke  writes  thus  in 
Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible: 

"Very  early  in  the  sixties,  near  the  end  of  my  college 
course,  I  pledged  myself  in  spirit  to  the  work  of  the  Christian 
ministry,  and  before  very  long  I  was  a  student  in  a  theological 
seminary. 

"I  had  not  been  doing  much  with  my  Bible  during  my 
years  in  college,  but  turned  to  it  with  new  enthusiasm  under 
a  new  influence.  This,  happily,  was  the  personal  inspiration 
of  a  teacher. 

"He  was  a  good  scholar,  though  I  do  not  know  that  he 
was  an  extraordinarily  great  one.  But  I  do  know  that  he  was 
a  man  of  strong  convictions,  of  a  most  beautiful  devoutness, 
of  absolute  sincerity,  and  of  perfectly  unconquerable  indus- 
try. His  permanent  physical  condition  was  such  as  would 
have  made  many  men  idle  and  most  men  easy,  but  his  holy 
resolution  held  him  to  an  amount  of  work  that  put  his  stu- 
dents to  perpetual  shame.  He  did  not  affect  every  one  as  he 
affected  me,  but  to  me  he  was  simply  irresistible. 

"His  Christian  character  held  my  love  and  admiration, 
his  scholarship  commanded  my  respect,  and  his  industry  was 
contagious.  What  I  could  do  I  had  to  do  while  I  was  with 
him.  His  influence  and  example  made  me  a  Bible  student. 
Our  outfit  of  helps  was  pitifully  meagre,  but  with  such  as  we 
had  I  set  myself  to  the  work.  He  taught  us  the  right  use  of 
commentaries  and  the  like,  insisting  that  whatever  helps  we 
might  use,  our  conclusions  as  to  the  meaning  must  be  in  an 
honest  sense  our  own.  We  must  not  shirk  the  responsibihty 
of  judging  what  our  Bible  means.  I  learned  that  lesson  early, 
to  my  Ufelong  advantage.  He  made  it  impossible  for  me  to 
shoulder  off  upon  commentators  my  duty  of  understanding 
the  Bible.  One  of  his  exhortations  abides  in  memory:  'Let 
no  word  of  man  come  between  your  soul  and  the  pure  word 
of  God.' 

"  In  such  an  atmosphere  it  naturally  came  to  pass  that  I 
was  a  firm  Biblicist.  I  remember  how  my  feeling  toward  the 
Bible  influenced  my  feeling  about  systematic  theology.  My 
teacher  in  that  department  was  a  man  of  different  mould 
from  my  teacher  in  the  Bible.  He  ranged  more  widely,  he 
was  more  mystical  in  his  view,  and  he  was  more  of  a  philoso- 


ANCESTRY  AND   EARLY  LIFE  23 

pher,  thinking  for  himself  and  outreaching  far  and  wide.  One 
was  searching  in  the  Bible  to  discover  the  truth  of  God;  the 
other  was  using  truth  that  he  had  found  there  or  anywhere 
else  in  the  broad  excursions  of  a  reverently  exploring  spirit. 
To  this  speculative  work  of  the  theologian  I  felt  deep  objec- 
tion because  it  was  not  Biblical  enough;  it  was  not  built  on 
proof-texts  or  buttressed  by  them  as  I  thought  it  ought  to  be. 
It  was  too  speculative,  I  thought,  and  grounded  elsewhere 
than  in  the  word  of  God.  In  this  judgment  I  was  sincere  but 
I  was  wrong.  The  theologian  was  using  Scripture  as  it  had 
been  assimilated  by  his  mind  and  yielded  him  its  teaching,  a 
process  that  I  could  not  then  understand.  The  Bible  in- 
spired his  theology;  I  thought  it  ought  to  dictate  it.  His 
method  was  legitimate  and  truly  Christian,  and  to  his  large, 
uplifting  influence  I  am  indebted  no  less  than  to  the  influ- 
ence that  led  me  at  first  to  be  suspicious  of  it.  In  my  day 
his  teaching  power  was  comparatively  undeveloped,  but  in 
his  later  years  he  became  a  teacher  of  magnificent  inspira- 
tion. 

''Before  the  sixties  were  half  spent  I  was  settled  in  a 
quiet  parish  and  using  the  Bible  in  the  honest  and  blundering 
manner  of  a  beginner  in  the  ministry." 


IN  KEENE 

In  the  pleasant  old  town  of  Keene,  New  Hampshire, 
where  he  had  his  first  pastorate,  Clarke  Hved  a  quiet,  labori- 
ous Hfe  for  six  years.  His  congregation  was  made  up  partly 
of  families  living  in  the  town  and  partly  of  country  people, 
and  he  easily  entered  into  a  kind  of  pastoral  work  already 
familiar  to  him.  After  two  years  the  parsonage  became  his 
home  and  his  sister  Mary  came  to  be  his  companion,  house- 
keeper, and  parish  helper.  By  her  presence  his  Hfe  was  en- 
riched and  brightened.  He  was  by  nature  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  self-centred  recluse. 

He  has  described  his  Hfe,  which  left  him  not  much  time 
for  recreation,  in  an  address  entitled,  "Some  Recent  Aspects 
of  the  Ministry,"  given  in  1904,  in  New  York,  before  a  min- 
isterial association.    It  begins  thus: 

"The  days  come,  the  years  pass,  but  how  much  they 
bring  to  us  we  do  not  know  till  afterward.  I  now  know  that 
I  have  lived  over  from  one  period,  almost  from  one  world 
into  another.  The  calling  of  the  ministry  has  not  changed, 
but  the  relations  and  work  of  the  ministry  have  changed  im- 
mensely, far  more  than  later  comers  upon  the  stage  can  know. 

"For  the  sake  of  showing  what  the  ministry  is  to-day, 
what  a  world  it  has  to  deal  with,  and  what  it  has  to  do,  I  wish 
to  mention  some  of  the  great  new  elements  that  have  come 
into  its  field  since  my  father  preached  my  ordination  sermon 
on  the  14th  of  January,  1864. 

"My  parish  was  a  small  church  in  a  New  England  county 
seat  of  four  thousand  people.  A  morning  sermon,  an  afternoon 
sermon,  a  prayer-meeting  in  the  evening,  one  on  Wednesday 
evening,  sometimes  another  in  a  dwelling  on  Friday  evening, 
visiting  my  people,  marrying,  burying,  and  incidental  service — 
this  was  my  work.  The  only  burning  questions  were  those 
of  the  Civil  War  which  was  then  upon  us.     New  ideas  of 

24 


IN  KEENE 


25 


church  work,  theological  excitements,  social  questions  in  the 
modern  sense — from  these  we  were  free. 

*'But  I  beg  my  brethren  to  note  what  has  come  to  pass 
since  then.  Note  first  what  entered  into  the  daily  work  of  the 
church  and  so  of  the  minister.  For  several  years  I  made  the 
list  of  lessons  for  my  Sunday-school.  I  have  lived  through 
the  entire  period  of  uniform  Sunday-school  lessons  and  of  the 
development  of  the  Sunday-school  which  has  accompanied 
them.  The  importance  of  the  Sunday-school  has  been  mul- 
tiplied manifold  within  my  time.  Of  organizations  within 
the  church  we  had  none  except  the  Sewing  Society  and  the 
Social  Circle  with  its  fortnightly  gathering  of  people.  Mis- 
sionary societies  for  women  have  all  come  in  since  then. 
The  earliest  Baptist  Women's  Missionary  Society  was  formed 
in  my  second  parish,  and  I  had  the  honor  to  have  a  hand  in 
some  of  its  earliest  doings.  Through  these  societies  and  by 
other  means  the  women  of  our  churches  have  come  into  a 
prominence  that  was  totally  unknown  when  I  began. 

"What  is  true  of  women  is  equally  true  of  young  people. 
It  was  well  toward  the  middle  of  my  forty  years  when  the 
first  Society  of  Christian  Endeavor  was  formed.  That  entire 
movement  of  Christian  Endeavor,  denominational  unions, 
junior  societies,  yes,  and  primary  classes  in  Sunday-schools 
has  swept  into  the  life  of  our  churches  within  my  period.  All 
institutional  features  in  the  church  are  also  new.  The  insti- 
tutional church  was  utterly  unknown  when  I  began,  and  the 
very  conception  of  the  calling  of  a  church  out  of  which  it  grew 
was  yet  in  a  great  measure  to  be  developed.  Of  course  there 
was  nothing  akin  to  settlement  work.  There  were  institu- 
tions like  the  Five  Points  Mission  and  the  Homes  for  Little 
Wanderers,  and  there  were  many  good  works,  but  the  more 
recent  methods  of  city  work  were  waiting  to  be  suggested  by 
a  set  of  ideas  not  yet  developed.  The  modern  Christian  in- 
terest in  sociology  is  a  growth  of  my  time.  The  idea  of  soci- 
ology as  a  science  was  as  unknown  as  the  name  when  J  began. 
The  whole  conception  has  swept  in  upon  us  as  a  novelty  within 
a  httle  time.  Equally  new  is  the  whole  idea  of  training  for 
lay  workers  in  the  church. 

"Suggestions  of  pedagogical  methods  had  not  then  struck 
religious  work.  As  for  evangelism,  that  problem  has  changed 
its  form  more  than  once  within  my  time. 


26  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

"The  Salvation  Army  was  still  unknown.  When  I  was 
ordained  Mr.  Moody  was  unknown.  I  first  saw  him  two 
years  later  when  he  was  becoming  prominent  as  a  local 
worker,  I  remember  the  change  that  came  in  with  the  Gos- 
pel H>Tnns.  The  great  sweep  of  the  Moody  movement  has 
come  and  gone,  and  the  first  generation  of  successors  have 
run  their  course. 

*'The  Northfield  movement  has  followed  with  its  kindred 
establishments  scattered  through  the  country. 

"I  well  remember  a  conversation  with  Bishop  Vincent 
when  the  Chautauqua  movement  was  still  young,  in  which  he 
enthusiastically  expounded  to  me  the  idea  which  it  embodied. 
The  Students'  Volunteer  movement  in  missions  and  the 
Students'  Christian  Associations  have  also  come  in  since  the 
beginning  of  my  work. 

"Agencies  for  doing  good?  A  minister  has  more  of  them 
at  his  disposal  over  and  over  again  than  forty  years  ago. 
The  list  of  additions  is  startling  to  me,  who  has  seen  it  grow. 
But  how  to  use  them  and  how  much  they  are  really  worth 
to  him,  which  among  them  have  lived  their  life  and  which 
have  hold  on  the  future — these  are  urgent  questions  for  the 
minister  to-day,  and  in  their  present  form  they  are  mainly 
questions  new,  unknown  when  my  work  began. 

"Since  I  began  my  work  the  mental  atmosphere  in  our 
part  of  the  world  has  become  permeated  by  the  ideas  that  are 
represented  by  the  name  evolution.  I  do  not  refer  to  any 
special  form  of  the  scientific  theory  or  of  the  philosophy  which 
that  name  may  suggest.  I  refer  to  the  insweeping  to  the 
popular  mind  of  the  ideas  and  modes  of  thinking  that  are 
characteristic  of  the  system. 

"People  are  coming  to  think  of  things  as  ancient  and  yet 
as  ever  changing:  as  having  grown  to  be  what  they  are,  one 
stage  out  of  another,  and  as  growing  still. 

"When  I  was  ordained  Darwin's  Origin  of  Species  had 
been  published  only  five  years,  and  the  ideas  that  it  suggested 
were  scarcely  even  entering  as  vital  forces  into  the  American 
religious  mind." 

"Do  not  let  your  love  of  fun  be  a  snare  to  you,"  was  his 
mother's  admonition  to  this  beginner  in  the  ministry,  not  yet 
twenty-two  years  of  age,  in  a  letter  written  soon  after  his  set- 


IN  KEENE 


27 


tlement  in  Keene.  His  time  was  so  filled  with  study  and 
parish  work  that  very  little  fun  was  possible  to  him  except 
that  which  bubbled  up  spontaneously  from  the  well-spring 
within.  If  he  sometimes  missed  the  sparkhng  young  life,  in 
the  midst  of  which  he  had  always  dwelt,  he  was  aware  of 
having  the  highest  compensations.  When  in  midsummer  he 
took  his  vacation  and  was  at  home  with  his  parents  in  Water- 
ville,  New  York,  to  which  place  they  had  removed  in  the 
autumn  of  1864,  or  with  his  sister  and  his  old  friends  in  Caz- 
enovia,  he  was  like  a  boy  let  out  of  school,  brimming  with  the 
brightest  and  sweetest  good-fellowship,  ready  to  keep  the  ball 
in  the  air  with  any  one  in  a  lively  game  of  badinage,  and 
enjoying  with  the  keenest  zest  the  companionship  of  his 
friends. 

Much  that  shows  his  essential  self  and  foretokens  his 
later  development  appears  in  letters  to  his  future  wife  between 
the  summer  of  1866  when  they  first  met  in  Cazenovia  and 
the  time  of  their  marriage  in  September,  1869. 

He  writes  without  reserve  of  whatever  he  is  thinking  and 
doing.  His  love  of  nature  is  the  background  for  all  else.  He 
gathers  arbutus  in  early  spring  to  send  to  his  "cousin,"  as 
he  calls  her  in  the  earlier  letters,  and  describes  the  south- 
ward sloping  hillside  where  it  grew.  He  brings  home  bits  of 
moss  and  Uchen,  hardy  ferns  and  budding  twigs,  in  late  au- 
tumn and  early  spring,  when  there  are  no  flowers,  and  ar- 
ranges them  in  his  own  way  to  give  a  touch  of  living  beauty 
to  his  study  table.  He  drives  over  the  shoulder  of  Monad- 
nock  on  a  bitter  winter's  day  in  obedience  to  some  call  of 
duty  and  does  not  fail  to  note  the  bleak  grandeur  of  the  out- 
look. Again,  in  the  following  summer,  he  goes  over  the  same 
route  with  a  party  of  friends,  making  an  excursion  to  the  sum- 
mit of  the  mountain,  and  writes  a  charming  description  and 
record  of  impressions  while  all  is  fresh  in  his  mind.  He  did 
not  cease  to  notice  pleasant  things  because  they  were  familiar. 
The  view  from  one  of  his  study  windows  in  Keene  was  an  un- 


28  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

failing  source  of  delight  to  him.  Again  and  again  in  those 
letters  occur  descriptions  of  this  outlook  as  it  appeared  under 
all  its  changes  of  light  and  color  as  the  seasons  passed,  on 
rainy  or  misty  days,  after  a  snowfall  or  when  every  bush  and 
tree  was  beautiful  with  frostwork  or  sparkling  with  ice.  No 
landscape  painter  ever  studied  a  scene  with  truer  or  more 
lo\ang  eyes.  An  artist's  journal  of  the  round  of  the  year 
might  have  been  compiled  from  these  descriptions. 

His  interest  in  all  sorts  of  people  comes  out  in  those  let- 
ters in  which  he  tells  many  incidents  of  his  parish  work — 
pathetic,  beautiful,  and  sometimes  amusing. 

Although  he  is  a  born  student,  he  is  not  working  for  plea- 
sure or  scholarship,  but  so  shapes  his  studies  as  to  make  them 
constantly  serviceable  to  his  people.  He  tells  of  his  effort  to 
iriduce  the  whole  body  of  his  parishioners  to  join  with  him  in 
a  course  of  systematic  Scripture  reading,  while  he  aids  and 
interests  them  by  going  over  the  same  ground  in  a  series  of 
explanatory  sermons  covering  the  whole  of  the  Bible.  He  is 
working  steadily  to  master  the  New  Testament  in  Greek,  and 
as  a  means  to  that  end  he  is  comparing  the  original  with 
Latin,  German,  and  French  translations.  The  Vulgate  he 
does  not  find  inspiring,  but  Luther's  translation  he  feels  to 
be  a  work  of  genius  as  well  as  of  scholarship,  which  often 
flashes  new  light  upon  a  passage.  The  French  is  useful,  be- 
cause it  is  modem  in  spirit  and  language,  though  inferior  in 
strength  and  beauty  to  the  King  James  version. 

There  is  no  public  Ubrary  accessible — town  and  village 
libraries  were  almost  unheard  of  then — and  he  has  to  buy 
every  book  that  he  needs.  Bit  by  bit  he  is  gathering  a  Ubrary 
of  excellent  quality,  books  for  his  work  and  the  more  precious 
of  English  classics.  Each  time  that  he  makes  one  of  his  in- 
frequent trips  to  Boston  he  brings  home  a  few  books.  In  his 
letters  he  describes  and  exults  over  each  one.  A  book  new  to 
him  he  reads  at  once  and  gives  a  concise  review  of  it.  Thus 
he  tells  of  Stanley's  History  of  the  Jewish  Church,  which  he 


IN  KEENE  29 

finds  startlingly  fresh  and  delightful.  His  copy  of  Bacon's 
Essays  was  one  of  these  acquisitions  and  also  a  beautiful  little 
copy  of  Milton's  poems  bound  in  red  morocco  and  satisfying 
to  the  eye  in  every  way,  which  he  always  kept  in  the  study. 
He  noticed  instinctively  the  title-page,  paper,  type,  binding 
— all  of  the  externals  of  book-making — and  was  something 
of  a  connoisseur,  yet  he  almost  never  bought  an  expensive 
book. 

These  letters  shed  a  clear  light  upon  a  note-book,  dated 
1868,  which  contains  much  that  is  characteristic.  Some  pas- 
sages reveal  a  deep  searching  of  his  own  heart,  some  are  sug- 
gested by  his  reading,  some  are  reflections  jotted  down  for 
use  in  preaching.  There  is  a  piece  of  theological  reasoning 
growing  out  of  the  substitutionary  theory  of  the  death  of 
Christ  so  much  higher  and  deeper  than  that  theory  that  it 
seems  like  the  bud  from  which  blossomed  his  latest  utter- 
ances upon  that  theme.  For  one,  who  by  feeling  and  choice 
was  conservative,  Clarke  was  then  singularly  modern  in  the 
attitude  of  his  mind.  He  did  not  shrink  from  looking  can- 
didly at  new  ideas. 

The  writings  of  Augustine  were  fascinating  and  yet  irri- 
tating to  him.  One  of  his  new  books  was  Augustinianism 
and  Pelagianism,  the  reading  of  which  evidently  suggested 
a  number  of  notes.  At  that  time,  to  the  ardent  Biblical 
student,  almost  all  theological  differences  seemed  to  grow  out 
of  exegetical  questions.  He  thinks  Augustine's  exegesis  very 
faulty  and  writes: 

"It  seems  wonderful  that  such  exegesis  as  he  deemed  al- 
lowable should  have  given  him  any  sound  knowledge  what- 
ever of  the  Scriptures.  Some  of  the  strength  of  his  argument 
was  dependent  upon  his  small  exegetical  knowledge,  and  es- 
pecially that  which  rested  on  Romans  5  :  12.  His  inability 
to  enter  into  the  spirit  and  language  of  the  East  also  made 
him  draw  much  more  from  apparently  strong  expressions  in 
the  Old  Testament  than  was  originally  in  them. 

"The  transmission  of  guilt,  as  Augustine  held  it,  reduced  to 


30  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

a  reductio  ad  absurdum  in  Emerson's  note,  283  seq.,  or  better, 
it  is  a  reductio  ad  fiorrible." 

Eleven  pages  in  the  note-book  are  given  to  Augustine  and 
his  polemic  methods.  Some  years  later  he  was  similarly  af- 
fected by  reading  the  Life  of  Jotiathan  Edwards.  In  each  case 
he  was  attracted  by  the  man  and  repelled  by  his  theology. 

Doctor  John  H.  Mason  of  the  Theological  Seminary  in 
Rochester,  New  York,  has  contributed  the  following  remi- 
niscences : 

"I  remember  well  the  young  man  on  that  Sunday  of  his 
first  visit  to  Keene — tall,  well  formed,  with  hair  and  beard 
strikingly  dark,  with  an  eye  which  searched  you  and  won  you, 
and  with  a  smile  which  made  one  his  friend  even  before  he 
had  opened  his  lips  in  speech.  The  voice — that  most  persis- 
tent and  unchanging  gift  of  nature — was  precisely  the  same 
voice  with  which  he  spoke  to  me  the  last  time  that  I  saw  him, 
some  two  or  three  years  ago. 

"Naturally,  I  cannot  pass  upon  the  quality  of  the  sermon, 
but  I  well  remember  the  manner  of  its  delivery,  read  from 
manuscript,  as  was  the  custom  in  that  day.  Yet  there  was  a 
freedom  of  utterance  and  a  kind  of  manly,  straightforward 
statement  and  appeal  which  I  have  not  forgotten.  There 
was  sparse  gesticulation,  as  in  later  years,  and  the  gestures 
were  forceful  rather  than  graceful. 

"The  pastorate  began  at  once  and  continued  for  six  years 
until  the  call  to  the  pastorate  of  the  church  at  Newton  Cen- 
ter, Massachusetts,  took  him  away  from  Keene.  The  hazy 
reminiscences  of  boyhood  are  of  small  value  in  the  retrospect 
of  time,  but  the  verdict  of  history  has  already  been  rendered 
upon  those  years  in  the  Christian  mim'stry.  No  better  proof 
of  the  quality  of  the  work  done  in  Keene  could  be  cited  than 
in  the  call  to  Newton  Center. 

"That  a  church  which  comprised  within  its  congregation 
the  professors  and  students  of  our  venerable  New  England 
Theological  Seminary  should  venture  to  call  a  young  man  of 
twenty-seven  to  its  pulpit  was  an  extraordinary  circum- 
stance. It  could  only  mean  that  Mr.  Clarke's  ministry  at 
Keene  had  been  one  of  studious  devotion  and  of  high  ideals. 


IN  KEENE  ^         31 

What  I  best  remember  is  the  affection  which  our  pastor 
awakened  among  the  young  people  and  especially  among  the 
children  of  the  parish.  He  drew  us  not  only  to  himself  but 
also  to  his  Saviour,  and  the  day  which  stands  out  above  all 
others  to  me  was  that  first  Sunday  in  September,  in  the  first 
year  of  his  pastorate,  when  he  led  a  group  of  four  or  five  of 
us  children  down  into  the  shining  waters  of  the  Ashuelot  and 
buried  us  with  our  Lord  in  baptism. 

"The  old  church  on  Winter  Street,  now  supplanted  by  a 
more  modern  structure,  will  always  be  associated  in  my  mind 
with  the  ministry  of  Mr.  Clarke.  I  was  fond  of  watching  for 
his  entrance  on  Sunday  morning,  and  as  a  boy  I  especially  en- 
joyed the  long,  sweeping  stride  with  which  he  marched  past 
our  pew  and  into  the  pulpit.  In  the  pulpit  there  was  a  pecu- 
liar gentleness  and  reverence  of  manner,  and  he  read  the 
Scripture  as  if  it  were  the  very  word  of  God. 

''The  pastor  was  an  inmate  of  our  house  for  several 
months,  and  it  was  here  that  we  really  came  to  know  him. 
Those  who  have  known  him  well  in  later  years  have  invari- 
ably remarked  upon  the  charm  of  his  personality;  that  the 
members  of  our  household  early  discovered.  In  his  relations 
with  the  parish  he  maintained  a  dignity,  some  might  call  it  a 
reserve,  which  retarded  the  progress  of  friendship,  but  in  the 
familiarity  of  the  home  life  he  unbent,  and  all  the  rich  stores 
of  his  mind  and  heart  were  ours. 

"I  was  beginning  in  a  halting  way  the  study  of  Latin,  and 
I  recall  the  wonder  with  which  I  looked  upon  a  man  who 
could  take  up  my  Latin  books  and  translate  them  as  if  they 
were  written  in  his  own  tongue.  With  Greek  it  was  much  the 
same,  for  even  at  that  time  he  had  made  great  progress 
toward  the  mastery  of  the  tongue  which  he  used  so  freely  in 
after  years.  Some  time  afterward,  when  he  was  no  longer  a 
member  of  the  household,  he  consented  to  take  two  of  us 
boys  in  the  high  school  through  some  special  course  in 
Latin.  It  was  a  great  privilege  to  us  to  be  admitted  to  the 
sacred  precincts  of  our  pastor's  study,  and  there  perhaps  more 
than  elsewhere  was  generated  that  love  of  books  which  has 
followed  us  down  the  years.  He  may  have  served  as  a  private 
tutor  in  his  college  days,  but  if  not,  I  dare  say  this  little  class 
was  the  first  which  he  really  taught,  so  it  is  good  to  remember 
the  enthusiasm,  the  accuracy,  the  patience,  the  humor,  and 


32  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

the  general  illumination  with  which  he  taught  us  and  which 
were  so  marked  characteristics  of  his  teaching  when  his  whole 
life  had  been  surrendered  to  that  high  caUing.  He  set  before 
us  noble  ideals  of  scholarship  and  awakened  within  us  earnest 
aspirations  for  the  higher  intellectual  life." 


NEWTON  CENTER 

In  May,  1869,  Clarke  became  pastor  of  the  old  pioneer 
Baptist  Church  in  Newton  Center,  Massachusetts.  On  Sep- 
tember I,  the  same  year,  we  were  married  at  my  home, 
Waverly,  Pennsylvania,  by  Clarke's  father,  the  Reverend 
WilUam  Clarke,  and  we  were  soon  established  in  the  Langley 
cottage.  Samuel  Langley  and  Emily  Montague  Pierpont,  his 
wife,  were  an  original,  independent,  highly  interesting  pair  if 
one  may  judge  from  the  reminiscences  regarding  them  which 
survived  among  their  neighbors.  They  had  built  this  cottage 
and  occupied  it  during  their  last  years.  Later  it  had  been 
the  home  of  their  daughter,  Mrs.  Goodrich.  It  was  a  pictur- 
esque little  abode,  and  she  had  beautified  the  place  by  her 
artistic  arrangement  of  lawn  and  drive,  rustic  work  and  bor- 
ders with  flowers  and  shaded  walks.  The  house  stood  at  a 
pleasant  distance  from  the  street  and  was  screened  by  a  tall 
hedge  of  arbor  vitae  which  bordered  the  front  of  the  estate. 
Along  the  west  side,  on  Chase  Street,  ran  a  low  wall  of  the 
worn  and  rounded  stones  of  the  region,  adorned  with  Virginia 
creeper,  clematis,  and  trailing  brambles.  At  the  back  of  the 
house  was  a  grassy  slope  with  fruit-trees  and  a  long,  rustic 
arbor  covered  with  grape-vines,  following  the  curve  of  a  path 
which  it  shaded.  The  cottage  had  a  pleasant  veranda  extend- 
ing along  three  sides  to  which  French  windows  gave  access 
from  the  parlor  and  from  the  sitting-room,  which  had  a  bay 
window  at  the  south  end.  This  room  became  the  minister's 
study. 

This  cottage  has  a  special  interest  on  account  of  its  asso- 
ciation with  the  brothers,  Samuel  Pierpont  and  John  W. 
Langley,  who  became  eminent  scientists,  known  for  their  far- 
seeing  pioneer  work.    As  boys  they  spent  a  part  of  their  sum- 

33 


34  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

mer  vacations  with  their  grandparents,  and  they  fitted  up  a 
workshop  in  the  bam  at  the  east  end  of  the  place,  where  they 
exercised  their  mechanical  and  scientific  aptitudes.  In  that 
workshop  they  made  a  telescope,  and  their  cousin,  Miss 
Julia  Faunce,  who  became  Mrs.  Stackpole,  remembered  being 
carried  one  morning  by  the  boys  across  the  dewy  grass  that 
she  might  look  through  their  telescope. 

The  old  barn,  still  in  use,  was  upon  the  verge  of  the  wild, 
and  a  clmnp  of  sassafras  of  pungent  odor  and  flavor,  with  other 
pleasant  woodland  things,  grew  in  a  thicket  beside  the  barn. 

Perhaps  the  Langley  cottage  was,  in  its  way,  an  epitome  of 
Newton  Center,  which  although  it  had  become  suburban  (it  was 
only  eight  miles  from  Boston)  with  a  large  number  of  house- 
holders, who  went  and  came  daily  to  and  from  the  city,  still 
retained  many  characteristics  of  the  country  village.  Side  by 
side  stood  modern  houses,  occupied  by  families  from  the  city, 
and  old-fashioned  houses  with  old-fashioned  people  in  them. 

The  narrow  highway  in  front  of  the  Langley  cottage,  a 
little  farther  eastward,  resolved  itself  into  a  secluded  coun- 
try road,  passing  along  a  stretch  of  rough,  wild  land  on  the 
north,  covered  with  young  oaks,  blueberry-bushes  and  other 
wild  things,  among  which  rose  here  and  there  a  huge  granite 
boulder.  On  the  south  side  was  apiece  of  marshy  lowland 
full  of  luxuriant  growths,  a  most  fascinating  spot  for  a  child 
or  a  naturalist,  and  beyond  was  a  long  border  of  woodland. 
After  passing  the  corner  beyond  the  cottage  there  was  only 
one  dwelling  for  nearly  a  mile  and  then  one  suddenly  came 
upon  a  primitive  settlement  where  a  colony  of  German  labor- 
ers had  established  themselves  in  habitations  not  much  larger 
than  the  boulders  with  which  they  shared  the  ground.  This 
was  Thompsonville,  and  here  was  a  small  brown  chapel  be- 
longing to  the  Baptist  Society  of  Newton  Center,  where  a 
Sunday-school  was  kept  up  for  these  immigrants  and  their 
children,  and  where  preaching  services  and  prayer-meetings 
were  held. 


NEWTON  CENTER 


35 


The  people  were  very  poor  and  had  seized  thankfully 
upon  this  spot  where  the  waste  land  was  cheap.  They  were 
proud  to  own  their  little  homes  for  which  they  had  toiled  hard, 
and  they  came  to  love  the  chapel  with  all  that  it  stood  for. 
The  mission  had  been  undertaken  and  was  carried  on  from 
purely  Christian  motives,  but  it  had  a  social  and  economic 
value  which  appeared  later. 

The  drives  all  through  the  Newtons  were  delightful. 
There  were  a  few  broad  avenues  bordered  here  and  there  by 
spacious  estates,  some  of  which  were  triumphs  of  the  land- 
scape-gardener's art.  A  few  of  these  estates  were  so  old  that 
the  elms  and  maples  had  attained  their  maximum  growth, 
and  many  were  perfect  specimens  of  their  kind,  set  in  lawns 
almost  as  rich  and  velvety  as  one  sees  in  old  England.  Forty 
years  ago  the  trees  and  shrubs  showed  a  health  and  luxuri- 
ance that  does  not  appear  to-day.  At  that  time  the  insec- 
tivorous birds  were  still  numerous  and  doing  their  beneficent 
work. 

No  less  attractive  were  the  many  narrow  and  ancient 
roads,  leading  in  every  direction  and  crisscrossing  in  an  ir- 
regular network.  These  by-roads  were  adorned  with  natural 
hedges  of  shrubs  and  trees  growing  irregularly  on  either  side 
of  old  stone  walls  or  lichen-covered  fences,  over  which  trailed 
clematis  and  brambles.  Here  and  there  stood  a  slender  white 
birch,  and  the  tangles  were  all  alive  with  birds. 

It  seemed  strange  to  find  so  much  wild  land  and  so  many 
fields  once  tilled  that  had  reverted  to  nature,  but  thus  it  was, 
and  the  few  farms  still  occupied  were  falling,  one  by  one,  into 
the  possession  of  Irish  or  German  immigrants.  The  indus- 
trial and  social  changes  were  already  well  advanced  that  have 
now  transformed  this  old  colonial  region  into  something  that 
those  who  knew  it  forty  years  ago  cannot  recognize. 

Newton  (Newtown)  had  been  settled  very  early,  and  many 
descendants  of  the  original  colonists  were  to  be  found  bear- 
ing the  names  of  their  ancestors,  and  in  some  instances  living 


36  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

in  houses  built  more  than  a  century  earlier.  Plain  in  dress, 
homely  of  speech,  hard-working  tillers  of  the  soil  they  loved, 
steadfast  as  granite  in  their  conWctions,  these  old-fashioned 
men  and  women  were  to  the  minister  among  the  most  inter- 
esting of  his  parishioners.  The  Stone  neighborhood  at  Oak 
Hill  was  t>^ical.  The  chief  of  the  clan,  good  Deacon  Stone, 
dwelling  in  his  old  age,  loved  and  honored,  among  his  younger 
kinsfolk,  with  his  stalwart  frame,  his  fine  head,  his  strong, 
weather-beaten  face,  once  seen  could  never  be  forgotten.  He 
was  somewhat  stern  in  manner,  but  to  his  frail  little  wife, 
sweet-faced  and  gentle,  he  was  chivalry  and  tenderness  per- 
sonified. 

The  pastor  was  always  welcome  in  their  home.  There 
would  be  a  little  talk  about  the  affairs  of  the  church,  the  state 
of  religion,  the  persons  ill  or  in  trouble,  and  then  all  would 
kneel  in  earnest  prayer.  When  the  pastor  took  leave  he  was 
always  dismissed  with  fatherly  words  of  encouragement  and 
benediction. 

Newton  Center  was  one  of  the  oldest  of  the  eleven  \allages 
in  the  town  of  Newton.  In  order  to  avoid  annexation  to  Bos- 
ton the  town  had  recently  obtained  a  city  charter.  It  was  a 
unique,  interesting  rural  city.  The  people  were  as  nearly  a 
homogeneous  community  as  could  be  found  in  the  vicinity  of 
a  great  commercial  centre.  The  majority  bore  old  New  Eng- 
land names  and  their  ideas  and  ways  were  decidedly  of  the 
New  England  type. 

Newton  Center  was  high  and  healthful  and  near  enough 
to  Boston  in  that  day  of  few  and  slow  trains  to  be  a  conve- 
nient place  of  residence  for  professional  men  and  men  of  busi- 
ness. Some  who  had  gained  wealth  and  position  lived  outside 
the  village  upon  pleasant  estates,  some  were  struggling  for 
success,  and  some  were  with  difficulty  making  a  living.  Al- 
ready there  was  a  sense  of  feverish  haste  in  the  atmosphere, 
but  no  one  could  anticipate  the  wild  rush  of  to-day  in  com- 
mercial and  social  life. 


NEWTON   CENTER  37 

The  teachers  in  the  school  of  theology  were  an  important 
element  in  the  Hfe  of  the  place.  The  churchgoing  people  who 
made  a  large  majority  of  the  inhabitants  were  about  equally 
divided  between  the  Baptists  and  the  CongregationaUsts, 
whose  church  was  often  mentioned  as  the  ''Orthodox,"  so 
fresh  was  still  the  memory  of  the  schism  in  the  established 
church  of  New  England  which  resulted  in  the  division  of  con- 
gregations into  Unitarian  and  Orthodox. 

Very  friendly  and  pleasant  relations  existed  among  the 
members  of  the  two  churches.  Denominational  differences 
were  seldom  mentioned,  and  only  a  few  in  either  church 
seemed  to  regard  these  differences  as  important. 

Doctor  Furber,  the  pastor  of  the  Congregational  Church, 
one  of  the  truest  and  most  modest  of  men,  gave  the  Baptist 
pastor,  at  his  coming,  a  cordial  welcome  and  was  ever  his 
friend.  Doctor  Stearns,  Clarke's  predecessor,  who  had  be- 
come professor  of  Old  Testament  interpretation  in  Newton 
Institution,  a  man  of  bright,  incisive,  poetic  mind  and  mag- 
netic power  in  the  pulpit,  was  kind  and  genial  toward  his 
successor. 

Doctor  S.  F.  Smith,  an  earHer  pastor,  of  world-wide  fame, 
the  author  of  glowing  hymns  other  than  "America,"  still 
had  his  home  in  Newton  Center.  He  was  a  man  of  scholarly 
tastes,  one  of  that  famous  Harvard  class  of  1829  immortal- 
ized by  OKver  Wendell  Holmes.  At  that  day  he  was  chiefly 
interested  in  linguistic  studies  and  hymnology.  Mrs.  Smith, 
with  her  fair  and  rosy  complexion,  her  fine,  strong  face,  her 
white  curls  touched  with  pale  gold,  soft  and  flossy  like  those 
of  a  httle  child,  in  the  harmonious  setting  of  her  own  home 
made  a  beautiful  picture  and  seemed  the  very  genius  of  hos- 
pitality. Madame  Smith,  her  mother,  bright,  alert,  active, 
doing  fine  needlework  when  she  was  past  eighty,  interested 
in  everybody  and  everything,  was  a  marvel.  Her  husband. 
Doctor  Hezekiah  Smith,  a  man  of  note  in  his  day,  had  been 
the  friend  and  classmate  at  Princeton  of  Doctor  Manning, 


38  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

and  had  given  him  efficient  aid  in  the  founding  of  Brown 
University.  He  had  served  as  one  of  Washington's  chap- 
lains and  had  entertained  Washington  in  his  home.  Upon 
special  occasions,  at  Thanksgiving,  Christmas,  or  family  anni- 
versaries, one  was  ofifered  tea  or  coffee  from  the  same  precious 
cups  that  had  been  used  upon  that  great  occasion.  Every- 
thing thus  associated  with  the  father  of  his  country  had  been 
treasured  in  the  family.  Mrs.  Smith  was  the  child  of  her 
father's  old  age  and  it  seemed  to  bring  the  period  of  the 
Revolution  very  near  to  know  that  she  and  her  mother  were 
thus  closely  linked  to  it. 

Another  family  with  which  the  friendship  was  close  and 
lasting  was  that  of  George  S.  Dexter.  Mrs.  Dexter  was  a 
daughter  of  the  Reverend  Duncan  Dunbar,  a  Scotch  minis- 
ter who  had  emigrated  with  his  family  to  America.  He  was 
a  noble,  large-hearted  man  and  a  remarkable  preacher. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Dexter  had  taken  the  new  pastor  into  their 
home  when  he  first  went  to  Newton,  and  during  the  first 
months  of  his  pastorate  he  had  been  their  guest.  Their  affec- 
tionate interest  in  him,  and  his  love  for  them  and  their  fam- 
ily, never  failed. 

In  the  Dexter  home  one  now  and  then  met  other  descend- 
ants of  Duncan  Dunbar.  They  were  vivid,  versatile,  warmly 
magnetic  personalities — every  one.  Mrs.  Chaplin  was  a  fre- 
quent contributor  to  religious  periodicals.  Her  daughter 
Christine,  afterward  Mrs.  Brush,  was  a  captivating  girl  of 
many  gifts  and  a  devoted  daughter  and  sister.  Whatever  she 
attempted  she  did  easily  and  well.  Once  in  a  while,  in  her 
busy  Ufe,  she  would  happen  to  write  a  poem  or  a  prose  article 
that  was  certain  to  be  welcomed  by  one  of  the  best  magazines. 
One  of  the  most  impressive  of  her  poems,  which  appeared  in 
the  Atlantic  Monthly,  was  entitled,  "And  There  Shall  Be  No 
More  Sea."  Perhaps  the  most  widely  read  of  all  that  she 
wrote  was  that  witty  Uttle  tale,  "The  Colonel's  Opera  Cloak," 
published  in  the  "No  Name"  series. 


NEWTON  CENTER  39 

There  was  also  a  happy  intimacy  with  Doctor  and  Mrs. 
Hovey  and  their  children.  Portrait  sketches  of  Doctor  Hovey 
and  of  Professor  Gould  are  given  in  Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible, 
from  which  only  brief  passages  can  be  quoted  here: 

"I  must  not  fail  to  mention  certain  personal  influences 
that  were  upon  me  in  those  years.  Earliest  among  them,  and 
latest,  too,  was  that  of  the  theologian  to  whom  I  looked  up, 
almost  as  to  a  father.  Older  than  I  by  a  score  of  years,  he  re- 
ceived me  from  the  first  into  a  warm  friendship  which  re- 
mained unaltered  to  the  end  of  his  days.  As  soon  as  I  knew 
him  I  was  attracted  by  the  sweetness  of  his  spirit  and  also  by 
his  candor,  his  patience,  and  his  well-balanced  judgment.  I 
did  not  always  agree  with  him,  but  in  all  his  work  I  knew  him 
as  the  truest  of  men." 

Of  Professor  Gould  he  says: 

"The  man  of  my  own  age  who  was  nearest  to  me  was 
teacher  of  New  Testament  interpretation.  He  was  a  man  of 
immense  force,  keen  of  intellect,  deep-seeing  and  far-seeing. 
By  patient  concentration  he  developed  a  rare  exegetical 
sense  and  became  a  very  remarkable  interpreter  of  the  Scrip- 
tures. Many  a  single  passage  and  many  a  large  meaning 
have  I  worked  out  with  him,  and  my  permanent  indebted- 
ness to  him  is  very  great." 

The  early  associations  of  Professor  Gould  and  Mrs.  Gould 
had  been  with  Old  Cambridge,  and  he  was  a  Harvard  man. 
He  had  served  his  country  as  an  officer  of  the  Union  Army 
in  the  Civil  War.  They  mingled  pleasantly  with  different 
social  circles  and  perhaps  touched  the  hfe  of  the  day  at  points 
more  various  than  any  other  family  of  his  parish  with  which 
Clarke  had  an  every-day  intimacy.  The  atmosphere  of  their 
house  was  stirring  and  stimulating,  and  among  their  guests 
one  might  now  and  then  meet  persons  awake  to  the  import 
of  certain  rehgious  and  social  problems  that  had  already 
risen  above  the  horizon  and  which  are  looming  up  to-day  in 
astounding  magnitude. 


40  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

It  was,  however,  a  time  of  hope  and  fearless  enterprise  in 
every  direction,  and  a  spirit  of  optimism  ruled.  It  cannot  be 
denied  that  in  Newton,  side  by  side  with  all  that  springs  from 
real  enlightenment  and  a  prosperity  in  many  cases  wisely  and 
generously  used,  there  was  not  a  little  of  that  stohd  satisfac- 
tion in  material  things,  that  avoidance  of  the  things  of  the  in- 
tellect and  the  spirit,  and  that  imperturbable  trust  in  riches 
which  Matthew  Arnold  summed  up  in  the  word  Philistinism. 
Then,  as  now,  Goliath  posing  as  David,  fully  understood,  yet 
easily  tolerated,  was  no  uncommon  figure.  With  this  confus- 
ing and  demoraUzing  force  every  teacher  of  reUgion  and 
ethics  had  to  reckon. 

In  the  autumn  of  1869  William  Clarke  and  his  wife  made 
a  visit  to  their  son.  Upon  the  second  Sunday  after  their  ar- 
rival the  father  preached  at  the  morning  service  and  touched 
the  hearts  of  all  who  listened.  This  was  his  text:  "As  ye 
have  received  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord,  so  walk  ye  in  him." 

The  sermon  was  as  old-fashioned,  simple,  and  beautiful, 
and  as  everlastingly  true  and  convincing  as  a  living  passage 
from  Bunyan  or  Jeremy  Taylor. 

It  was  an  utterance  that  belonged  to  all  time  and  so  was 
felt  to  be  absolutely  timely  at  that  hour.  He  began  by  de- 
picting the  tenderness  and  humility  of  the  penitent  soul, 
spoke  from  a  full  heart  of  the  new-found  peace  and  chastened 
joy  that  comes  with  a  sense  of  forgiveness  and  reconciliation 
to  God,  and  then  of  the  impulse  of  loving  obedience  that 
awakens  in  the  soul  that  has  become  aware  of  its  sonship  to 
God  and  its  brotherhood  with  Christ.  He  entreated  his 
hearers  to  recall  that  early  experience  if  it  had  been  forgotten 
or  had  become  dim,  to  consecrate  themselves  anew  to  God 
and  to  Hve  thenceforth  in  the  spirit  of  Christ.  The  congrega- 
tion Hstened  in  a  deep  hush,  with  the  sense  of  a  great  presence 
upon  them.  When  the  service  was  over  and  the  preacher 
stood  with  his  son  at  the  foot  of  the  pulpit  stairs,  there  was  a 
movement  toward  them,  from  every  side,  of  one  and  another 


NEWTON   CENTER  41 

coming  to  grasp  his  hand  and  to  thank  him  for  the  blessing 
that  had  come  to  them  in  his  message.  Even  now,  after  the 
lapse  of  many  years,  a  few  faces  in  the  eager  group  that  gath- 
ered around  this  true  servant  of  God  come  clearly  to  the 
memory  of  one  who  was  a  deeply  interested  hstener  and 
looker-on. 

Doctor  Ripley's  delicate  face,  which  could  sometimes  be 
as  stern  as  a  Roman  mask,  was  softened  and  radiant.  Dear 
Madame  Dexter's  was  tremulous  with  emotion.  There  was 
Doctor  Warren,  the  veteran  secretary  of  the  Missionary 
Union,  a  great  man  and  a  great  preacher,  warmly  greeting 
his  brother  in  the  ministry. 

In  the  congregation  were  some  who  recognized  in  this 
unveiling  of  a  soul  endowed  with  that  simplicity  which  is 
eternal  wisdom,  the  same  spirit  which  had  attracted  them  at 
first  to  their  pastor  and  were  thereafter  more  closely  drawn 
to  him. 

The  first  visit  of  William  Clarke  to  Newton  Center  was 
also  his  last.  In  the  spring  of  187 1  he  was  called  to  his  eternal 
home. 

Clarke  hitherto  had  never  questioned  the  tenets  of  his 
denomination.  The  position  he  occupied  was  his  by  inheri- 
tance and  by  acceptance  after  he  was  able  to  judge  for  him- 
self. He  held  to  a  mitigated  form  of  Calvinism  and  believed 
baptism  by  immersion  to  have  been  the  method  used  by  the 
early  church,  which  expressed  in  its  symbohsm  a  vital  truth. 
Restricted  communion  was  its  inevitable  corollary.  The  whole 
question  had  been  exhaustively  discussed  by  able  and  learned 
reasoners,  again  and  again,  and  he  agreed  with  the  conclu- 
sions which  tallied  with  his  own  early  training. 

Nor  did  he  hesitate  over  any  point  in  the  confession  of 
faith  that  had  been  adopted  long  before  by  the  church  in  New- 
ton Center,  although  he  saw  that  it  ought  to  be  revised  and 
modified.  This  confession  was  very  carefully  revised  a  few 
years  later,  during  his  pastorate,  and  many  changes  were  made. 


-^-IT-T.     IIU  '  ■-!■  Ji. 


42  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

From  the  time  that  he  entered  the  School  of  Theology  at 
Hamilton  he  had  been  an  eager  student  of  the  Bible,  and  espe- 
cially of  New  Testament  exegesis.  Through  the  six  years  in 
Keene  he  had  worked  conscientiously  and  ardently,  and  in 
Newton  he  kept  on  in  the  same  line  under  the  added  stimulus 
of  daily  contact  with  teachers  in  the  seminary.  He  tried  to 
keep  pace  with  all  advances  in  actual  knowledge  of  the  Bible, 
using  always  the  best  texts  and  the  best  aids  that  could  be 
had.  He  was  not  much  affected  by  the  destructive  criticism 
at  that  time  nearing  its  culmination  in  Germany.  He  was 
repelled  by  the  spirit  of  Strauss,  then  the  most  prominent 
scholar  and  critic  of  the  radical  group,  and  not  until  after  the 
coming  of  Hamack  did  he  find  himself  deeply  interested  in 
any  of  the  more  modern  theologians  of  Germany.  In  truth, 
his  theology  with  its  modifications  and  profound  changes  as 
the  years  passed  was  always  his  own,  as  purely  the  product 
of  his  own  experience,  study,  and  reflection  as  was  possible  to 
an  open-minded  man  who  read  somewhat  widely. 

Ever  clear  in  memory  is  a  picture  of  the  study  in  the  Lang- 
ley  cottage.  Between  windows  reaching  to  the  floor  stood  a 
desk  and  bookcase,  and  there  the  earnest  student  used  to  sit, 
with  his  constant  companion,  the  Greek  New  Testament, 
open  beside  him,  his  cherished  Bengel's  Gnomon  close  at  hand, 
Meyer's  Commentary,  then  the  latest  and  best,  and  other 
books  of  reference  within  easy  reach. 

There  was  in  the  study  a  little  old-fashioned  melodeon 
of  a  style  long  since  superseded  by  larger  and  noisier  instru- 
ments. This  had  been  his  dear  companion  and  friend  almost 
from  childhood.  He  confided  to  it  unutterable  things,  and  it 
responded  with  ready  sympathy.  Often  he  would  leave  his 
writing  and  sit  down  at  the  melodeon.  Perhaps  he  would  play 
some  of  the  many  church  tunes  that  he  knew,  perhaps  some 
tender  or  lofty  passage  from  an  oratorio,  perhaps  some  emo- 
tion or  revelation  in  the  depths  of  his  soul,  inexpressible  save 
in  music,  would  utter  itself  in  poignant  strains. 


NEWTON   CENTER  43 

He  was  as  far  as  possible  from  being  outwardly  methodi- 
cal. He  never  laid  out  his  time  according  to  any  schedule, 
yet  his  innate  orderliness  enabled  him  to  do  whatever  was  to 
be  done  without  hurry  or  worry.  Two  sermons  were  sure  to 
be  ready  for  the  Sunday  services,  though  often  one  was  wholly 
written  on  Saturday.  On  Monday  morning  he  usually  went 
to  Boston  to  attend  the  weekly  ministers'  meeting  and  the 
monthly  meeting  of  a  theological  club.  He  liked  to  drop  in 
at  the  missionary  rooms  at  Tremont  Temple  or  at  some  book- 
store, so  Monday  was  really  Boston  day.  On  Tuesday  morn- 
ing after  this  bit  of  a  change  he  started,  refreshed,  upon  the 
work  of  the  week  before  him.  He  worked  at  his  desk  during 
the  morning  hours,  when  he  was  fresh  and  fit,  if  he  could,  yet 
since  a  pastor,  with  innumerable  calls  upon  his  time,  must 
work  as  he  can,  he  was  not  disturbed  even  if  the  morning 
proved  to  be  a  series  of  interruptions.  He  turned  easily  from 
one  thing  to  another,  and  as  he  had  great  power  of  concentra- 
tion he  accomplished  much  without  loss  of  time. 

He  had  not  given  much  attention  to  philosophy,  but  if 
questioned  he  would  have  replied  that  his  philosophy  was 
that  of  common  sense.  He  had  accepted  the  system  of 
thought  regarding  the  problem  of  existence  generally  taught 
in  American  colleges — of  which  Doctor  McCosh,  at  Princeton, 
was  at  that  time  a  distinguished  exponent.  He  might  well 
have  applied  to  himself  the  saying  of  Joubert:  "That  part  of 
my  head  which  is  made  to  take  in  things  that  are  not  clear 
is  very  narrow."  He  could  not,  as  yet,  sympathize  with  the 
exclamation  of  Edward  Irving:  "I  like  to  see  a  great  idea 
looming  up  through  the  mist !" 

He  had  a  passion  for  rectitude  of  thought  and  definiteness 
of  statement.  There  was  little  in  his  sermons  of  that  touch 
and  go  and  general  suggestiveness  that  is  delightful  to  many 
minds.  Each  point  was  clearly  and  strongly  stated,  the  ser- 
mon was  delivered  with  a  characteristic  momentum,  and  the 
effect  was  convincing,  although  the  argument  was  underlying 


44  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

and  implied,  never  obtrusive.  His  strength  was,  however, 
not  chiefly  intellectual.  A  pervasive  glow  that  came  from 
the  preacher's  inmost  self  was  the  secret  of  his  power.  That 
he  was  essentially  a  mystic  was  one  of  the  things  that  he 
learned  latest  about  himself.  His  philosophy,  like  his  the- 
ology, changed  profoundly  though  very  gradually,  as  he  ad- 
vanced in  life. 

In  Keene  he  had  been  overburdened  in  every  way  because, 
although  his  people  were  generous  and  loyal,  there  were  few 
in  the  church  who  had  the  ability  and  the  training  to  take  any 
part  of  the  parish  work  off  his  hands.  The  Newton  Center 
church  was  rich  in  men  and  women  accustomed  to  work 
with  and  for  the  pastor.  Also  the  members  of  the  theological 
faculty  stood  ready  to  help  him  at  any  time  by  preaching. 
He  now  had  leisure  for  more  reading  and  broader  study,  and 
the  library  of  Newton  Institution  was  close  at  hand.  He  re- 
sumed his  studies  in  the  field  of  church  history  with  a  mind  ma- 
ture enough  to  make  such  work  vital  and  fruitful.  His  reading 
in  this  line  and  his  sampling  of  the  church  fathers,  early  and 
late,  provided  much  food  for  thought  at  that  period  and  later. 

While  in  Keene  he  had  become  acquainted  with  The  Vica- 
rious Sacrifice  of  Horace  Bushnell,  but  in  his  busy  and  weary 
life  he  had  not  found  opportunity  to  do  it  justice.  Not  long 
after  his  settlement  at  Newton  a  professor  in  the  seminary 
came  one  day  into  his  study  and  began  to  talk  of  what  was 
uppermost  in  his  mind.  He  had  been  reading  The  Vicarious 
Sacrifice  and  was  about  to  write  a  review  in  which  he  took 
issue  with  the  author.  He  pointed  out  what  he  regarded  as 
the  fatal  error  of  the  book  and  gave  an  outline  of  the  argu- 
ments by  which  he  proposed  to  refute  this  heresy. 

A  few  days  later  Clarke  returned  from  the  seminary  li- 
brary bringing  The  Vicarious  Sacrifice,  and  went  through  it 
with  critical  and  yet  sympathetic  interest.  He  looked  at  the 
argument  candidly  from  the  author's  point  of  view  and  felt 
the  power  of  the  book  without  assenting  to  it.     The  genius 


NEWTON  CENTER  45 

and  personality  of  the  author  impressed  him  more  than  his 
teaching,  yet  Clarke  could  never  afterward  see  the  doctrine 
of  the  atonement  in  precisely  the  same  light  as  before. 

The  two  men  were  very  unlike.  Bushnell  was  sure  of  him- 
self, ardent,  forceful,  actively  interested  in  a  great  variety 
of  things,  secular  and  religious.  Clarke  was  quiet,  contem- 
plative, distrustful  of  himself,  and  so  limited  by  his  lack  of 
physical  strength  that  he  needed  to  give  the  greater  part  of 
his  energy  to  his  daily  work.  There  was  in  his  nature  an  out- 
reaching,  wistful  tenderness,  especially  toward  older  men 
whom  he  looked  up  to  and  revered,  which  would  have  ap- 
pealed irresistibly  to  Bushnell.  If  the  two  had  ever  met  they 
must  have  loved  each  other,  and  Clarke  might  have  become 
the  disciple  of  Bushnell.  As  it  was,  he  was  never  the  disciple 
of  any  man. 

In  Representative  Modern  Preachers,  Doctor  Lewis  C. 
Brastow  says: 

"Doctor  Bushnell  was  a  theologian  and  has  left  behind 
him  a  theology  sufficiently  distinctive  to  bear  his  name.  It  is 
a  curious  turn  in  the  course  of  events  that  our  theological 
institutions,  as  a  sort  of  defense  of  the  Christian  faith,  should 
to-day  be  expounding  the  theology  of  a  man  who  spent  his 
Hfe  in  enlarging  theology  and  who  denied  that  anything  like 
a  system  of  theology  is  possible." 

Of  Clarke  throughout  his  whole  career  it  might  have  been 
said,  as  Brastow  said  of  Bushnell: 

"He  had  no  theology  that  he  could  not  preach,  and  he  be- 
lieved in  none  that  could  not  and  should  not  be  translated 
from  the  realm  of  thought  into  the  realm  of  life." 

In  Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible,  Clarke  tells  simply  and  dis- 
passionately the  story  of  his  progress  from  inherited  belief  to 
a  faith  wholly  his  own.    In  chapter  IV  he  says : 

"During  the  entire  decade  of  the  Seventies  I  was  neigh- 
bor and  pastor  to  a  theological  seminary.    It  would  naturally 


46  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

be  expected  that  such  a  period  in  a  young  man's  life  would 
provide  an  important  chapter  in  the  story  of  his  relations 
with  the  Bible,  and  in  my  case  so  it  did.  Under  various  in- 
fluences the  story  developed  very  gradually,  perhaps  more 
gradually  than  logically,  but  it  advanced  to  results  for  which 
I  am  profoundly  grateful.  I  was  aware  of  this  period  largely 
as  a  period  of  harvest  from  my  earlier  Ufe,  but  afterward  I 
knew  it  to  be  more  truly  a  seed  time." 

The  story  of  Clarke's  life  at  Newton  might  be  concluded 
fitly  by  free  quotations  from  Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible  if  space 
could  be  given  to  them.  From  page  109  to  the  end  of  the 
Seventies  is  told  the  story  of  the  manner  in  which  he  was  led 
to  make  an  independent  study  of  the  doctrine  of  the  atone- 
ment, and  the  results  at  which  he  arrived  are  indicated.  Of 
this  experience  he  says: 

"For  months  I  was  held  to  my  task  by  a  power  from  which 
there  was  no  escape — from  which  indeed  I  had  no  desire  to 
escape.  It  was  a  great  experience ;  for  now,  under  an  impulse 
that  I  knew  to  be  from  God,  my  best  powers  were  for  the  first 
time  grappling  with  the  primal  moral  facts  of  existence.  I 
had  been  handling  divine  reaHties  all  my  years,  but  never 
until  now  had  I  been  under  such  strong  and  joyful  constraint 
in  dealing  with  them.  Such  labor  could  not  be  in  vain  in  the 
Lord,  and  to  me  it  was  richly  fruitful." 

His  broader  and  deeper  study  of  the  Bible,  as  he  asserts, 
was  that  which  brought  to  him  a  conception  of  the  meaning 
of  the  central  doctrine  of  the  Christian  faith  which  was  in 
every  sense  his  own.  He  had  found  a  satisfactory  reality. 
He  had  felt  since  the  hour  of  his  conversion  that  the  heart 
of  God  was  truly  the  heart  of  a  father,  and  the  goodness  and 
love  of  God  had  always  glowed  in  his  sermons.  His  preaching 
had  become  less  and  less  doctrinal  as  years  went  on,  more 
and  more  vital  and  practical.  In  those  later  years  whatever 
might  be  the  text — and  the  preaching  did  not  lack  variety — 
there  stood,  luminous  in  the  background,  the  first  and  great 
commandment,  and  the  second  which  is  like  unto  it. 


NEWTON  CENTER  47 

The  new  theology  had  not  yet  received  its  name — a  mis- 
leading one — but  it  was  on  the  way,  and  in  Newton  Center  it 
had  arrived.  It  was  impossible  that  all  of  the  older  parish- 
ioners should  Usten  Sunday  after  Sunday  to  Clarke's  preach- 
ing without  missing  a  literaHsm  in  doctrinal  statement  that 
was  dear  to  them  or  that  others  should  fail  to  resent  the 
ethical  demands  that  were  made  so  gently  yet  so  insistently. 
There  was  dissatisfaction  and  irritation  here  and  there. 
Clarke  had  now  spent  nearly  eleven  difficult  years  at  Newton 
Center.  Evidently  the  time  was  at  hand  for  a  change.  Sure 
of  that  leading  of  which  he  had  ever  been  aware,  he  waited 
quietly  for  a  door  to  open.  A  request  came  that  he  should 
visit  a  church  in  Montreal,  Canada.  This  opportunity  for  a 
new  work  in  a  field  very  unlike  anything  that  he  had  known 
before  was  strongly  attractive  to  him.  He  went  to  Montreal, 
became  interested  in  the  church  and  the  place,  and  a  few 
weeks  later  was  installed  as  pastor  of  the  Olivet  Baptist 
Church. 


IN  CANADA 

An  all-day's  journey  northward  in  early  spring  through 
a  wintry  landscape  that  grew  more  snowy,  hour  by  hour; 
then  evening  and  darkness;  then  a  stop  at  a  small  station 
near  Montreal,  where  a  merry-faced,  eager  youth  entered, 
glanced  along  the  car  and  straightway  approached  a  sur- 
prised woman,  introduced  himself,  and  explained  that  he  was 
playing  a  small  joke  upon  Doctor  Clarke  and  a  number  of 
friends.  They  were  at  the  Montreal  depot  awaiting  my  ar- 
rival on  the  train  from  Boston,  and  he  wished  himself  to  be 
the  first  to  meet  and  greet  me.  There  was  a  burst  of  hearty 
laughter  when  I  appeared  escorted  by  this  young  knight, 
and  the  group  of  kindly  strangers  were  strangers  no  more. 

The  big  sleigh,  warm  with  fur  robes,  to  which  we  were  led, 
the  bright  streets,  the  rows  of  substantial  stone  dwellings,  the 
much  snow  everywhere,  the  low  sleighs,  some  of  them  beau- 
tiful and  drawn  by  spirited  horses,  suggesting  famiUar  pic- 
tures of  Russian  scenes,  and  finally  the  house  in  Durocher 
Street  where  we  were  guests — all  was  new  and  exhilarating. 
Our  Lady  of  the  Snows  greeted  the  newcomer  with  a  radiant 
smile.  This  first  glimpse  of  Montreal  and  of  the  cordial,  im- 
pulsive, outspoken  people  who  had  asked  Clarke  to  become 
their  pastor  remained  a  vivid  memory. 

What  could  he  do  but  enter  this  door  which  had  opened 
so  widely  and  so  hospitably?  Nevertheless,  he  wished  his 
wife  to  see  something  of  the  place  and  the  people  before  a 
question  so  momentous  was  decided.  Americans  in  Canada 
were  sometimes  misfits.  Two  months  later  we  were  dwelling 
in  our  own  home  at  219  Peel  Street,  a  Uttle  below  Sherbrooke. 

48 


IN   CANADA  49 

The  house  was  light,  cheerful,  and  well  arranged.  A  small 
room  at  the  back  of  the  hall,  opening  upon  a  veranda,  already 
generously  fitted  with  shelves,  was  taken  for  the  library,  and 
one  on  the  second  floor,  opening  upon  a  balcony  over  the  front 
porch,  was  suitable  for  a  study.  Opposite  was  a  large  field 
used  by  a  riding-master  as  a  training-school  for  his  pupils 
and  his  horses.  He  was  an  expert — perhaps  a  genius — in  his 
line,  and  there  were  interesting  activities  presented  upon  this 
field. 

Not  far  away,  upon  Sherbrooke  Street,  was  McGill  Uni- 
versity with  its  pleasant  garden,  of  which  we  had  the  free- 
dom. From  Sherbrooke  the  intersecting  streets  ran  steeply 
up  Mount  Royal,  where  there  were  shady  forest  paths  and  a 
cherished  city  park  which  grew  more  attractive  year  by  year. 
Upon  Mount  Royal  several  points  aflforded  beautiful  views, 
especially  over  the  St.  Lawrence  River  and  beyond. 

The  nucleus  of  the  Olivet  Baptist  Church  was  a  body  of 
earnest  Christian  workers,  some  of  whom  were  persons  of 
superior  character  and  intelHgence  who  had  separated  from 
the  First  Church  a  few  years  before.  From  the  outset  they  had 
engaged  in  work  of  an  evangelistic  and  missionary  type,  of 
which,  in  this  the  principal  port  of  Canada,  there  was  abun- 
dant need.  They  had  gathered  a  singularly  mixed  congrega- 
tion made  up  of  persons  from  many  parts  of  the  world. 
Among  the  original  members  and  leaders  of  the  church  were 
Scotch  and  English  elements  about  equal  in  numbers  and 
strength,  persons  of  marked  individuaHty  and  decided  opin- 
ions, who  differed  upon  some  points  and  were  always  keen 
for  an  argument;  who,  however,  worked  marvellously  well 
together  in  religious  and  philanthropic  enterprises.  Several 
American  families  had  been  added  to  the  church  and  were 
among  its  most  efficient  workers.  Some  of  the  parishioners 
were  well-to-do  though  none  could  be  called  rich,  and  the 
majority  were  of  narrow  means.  They  were  as  a  body  sur- 
prisingly liberal  and  the  finances  of  the  church,  with  which 


50  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

the  pastor  was  never  troubled,  were,  apparently,  well  man- 
aged. 

Clarke  had  been  interested  from  his  boyhood  in  the  Grande 
Ligne  Mission  founded  by  Madame  Feller,  a  devout  Swiss 
lady  of  extraordinary  gifts,  and  he  was  pleased  to  find  the 
leaders  in  the  First  Church  and  the  Olivet  working  strongly 
side  by  side  for  this  useful  mission,  to  which  he  at  once  gave 
himself  ardently.  He  already  knew  and  honored  the  Reverend 
Theodore  Lefleur,  pastor  of  the  French  Baptist  Church  in 
Montreal,  who  was  himself  one  of  the  finest  of  the  first  fruits 
of  the  religious  and  educational  work  of  this  mission  which  has 
aided  much  in  the  higher  development  of  French-Canadian 
youth. 

A  kind  welcome  was  given  to  the  newcomer  by  the  minis- 
ters of  various  denominations  who  stood  close  together  in  a 
city  where  Protestants  were  largely  outnumbered  by  French 
Catholics,  the  ruling  force  in  religious  and  civil  affairs.  Among 
ministers  and  laymen  throughout  the  city  Clarke  found  con- 
genial and  stimulating  companionship,  and  made  some  friend- 
ships that  were  permanent.  Montreal,  a  small  city,  was,  nev- 
ertheless, cosmopolitan,  and  its  social  life  had  much  variety 
and  charm.  After  a  time  he  became  a  member  of  a  club  made 
up  of  professional  men,  men  of  affairs,  of  letters,  and  of  science, 
which  had  been  organized  for  the  promotion  of  good  under- 
standing and  good-fellowship.  This  opportunity  for  a  broader 
and  more  intimate  knowledge  of  men  of  many  minds  and 
pursuits  widely  diverse,  was  valued  the  more  because  the  in- 
tellectual associations  of  Clarke  had  hitherto  been  almost  ex- 
clusively theological  and  he  keenly  enjoyed  attending  occa- 
sionally, a§  he  was  able,  meetings  of  this  club,  at  which  good 
papers  upon  topics  far  apart  from  theology  were  read  and 
discussed. 

In  this  interesting  city,  where  one  might  hear  the  country 
folks  on  the  street  speaking  the  old  French  of  their  fore- 
fathers and  the  educated  and  elegant  using  the  purest  French 


IN   CANADA  51 

of  Paris,  and  to  which  drifted  representatives  of  almost  every 
civilized  country,  were  opportunities  to  learn  something  of  all 
classes  and  conditions  of  men.  To  a  man  with  open  eyes  and 
a  sympathetic  heart  it  was  a  new  and  enlarging  experience. 

Of  his  life  in  Montreal  Clarke  wrote  thus  in  Sixty  Years 
with  the  Bible: 

"At  the  very  beginning  of  the  eighties  a  great  change 
came  to  all  my  mental  operations  through  a  change  in  the 
scene  of  my  work.  From  my  pastorate  of  the  seventies  I 
went  to  another  which  was  as  unlike  it  as  possible  in  the  con- 
ditions of  life  and  thought.  I  carried  myself  with  me,  and 
all  my  past,  but  no  man  could  be  the  same  in  two  places. 
Any  man  would  be  changed  by  such  a  transfer;  that  is,  to 
speak  after  the  manner  of  the  operation  of  God,  he  would 
be  developed,  the  new  atmosphere  stimulating  in  some  new 
manner  the  growth  of  his  mind.  In  my  case,  changes  began 
at  once.  For  one  thing,  I  immediately  threw  off  the  practise 
of  reading  sermons.  That  is  to  say,  I  threw  it  off  as  a  regular 
practise  from  the  very  first  day  in  my  new  field,  and  my  bond- 
age to  it,  such  as  it  was,  fell  away.  I  wrote  and  read  when  I 
chose,  and  preached  in  all  ways  between  that  and  purely  ex- 
temporaneous work.  This  emancipation  the  spirit  of  the  new 
environment  brought  me,  and  evidently  this  was  an  exer- 
cise of  freedom  that  tended  to  the  enlargement  of  freedom. 
This  in  general  was  the  characteristic  of  the  new  Ufe  upon 
which  I  now  entered,  that  I  found  greater  liberty  in  my  men- 
tal and  spiritual  movements  than  before.  I  stood  as  a  freer 
man.  I  can  see  plainly  now  that  the  experience  which  I  have 
just  narrated  had  been  leading  me  straight  out  into  the 
larger  place  in  which  I  found  myself;  but  I  did  not  under- 
stand it  so  well  then. 

"I  was  not  designing  any  new  methods  in  the  use  of  the 
Bible,  but  expected  simply  to  go  on  using  it  as  I  had  done 
hitherto.  At  first  I  was  doing  no  special  work  with  it,  except 
in  preaching.  But  in  preaching  I  felt  the  new  Uberty  and 
exaltation.  Utterance  was  more  and  more  a  delight.  With 
this  new  joy  came  naturally  a  fresh  enjoyment  in  the  wealth 
of  the  Scriptures.  Never  more  than  in  those  days  have  I  en- 
joyed bringing  out  of  the  treasury  things  new  and  old,  and  at 


52  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

no  period  have  I  found  larger  things  in  the  treasury  to  be 
brought  forth.  But  though  I  was  not  planning  new  methods 
with  the  Bible,  I  was  using  them.  It  was  impossible  that  my 
experience  in  searching  out  the  atonement  should  be  without 
immediate  and  valuable  fruit  in  my  ordinary  work.  In  preach- 
ing now  it  was  impossible  that  I  should  refrain  from  using  the 
Bible  as  I  had  discovered  my  right  to  use  it  then.  The  by- 
gone conditions  could  never  be  restored.  I  was  handUng  the 
Bible  now  more  personally,  more  as  myself,  and  more  as  if  I 
had  a  right  to  handle  it.  I  still  practised  exegesis  with  un- 
diminished fidelity,  but  the  process  was  further  removed  from 
my  sermonizing  than  before.  My  message  was  not  so  directly 
borrowed  from  the  Bible  as  in  former  years  and  was  more 
suggested  or  inspired  by  it.  Not  the  sight  of  my  eyes  upon 
the  page,  so  much  as  the  experience  of  mind  and  heart  with 
its  truths,  was  placing  it  at  my  disposal.  Around  me  were 
many  who  seemed  to  reverence  the  Bible  more  for  what  it  was 
than  for  what  it  contained;  but  for  my  part  I  was  prizing  it 
now  for  what  it  contained,  and  was  using  my  Christian  lib- 
erty, as  manfully  as  I  might,  to  make  its  spiritual  message 
clear,  unhampered,  and  effective. 

"It  scarcely  need  be  added  that  my  theology  was  chang- 
ing meanwhile,  for  neither  the  outcome  nor  the  method  of 
my  work  on  the  atonement  could  allow  it  to  stand  unaltered, 
and  in  the  new  atmosphere  of  liberty  I  was  certain  to  advance, 
the  process  of  change  consisting  mainly  in  this  same  thing, 
that  I  was  taking  up  the  great  truths  of  revelation,  and  using 
them  for  myself  as  truths,  and  following  them  to  their  appli- 
cation and  result  in  doctrine,  and  allowing  them  to  assimilate 
whatever  could  live  with  them  and  expel  whatever  could  not. 
This  I  conceive  to  be  the  right  way  to  form  one's  doctrinal 
conceptions.  This  revolutionary  and  reconstructive  work, 
which  is  the  proper  work  of  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  was  taking 
a  place  in  my  life  that  it  had  not  held  before.  The  time  was 
a  period  of  enlargement  to  me,  and  of  enlargement  that  I  felt 
to  be  normal  to  a  child  of  God.  The  experience  was  defec- 
tive enough  through  fault  and  weakness  of  my  own,  but  it 
was  a  genuine  experience  of  growth  into  more  abundant  life. 
And  if  I  were  to  give  it  a  name,  I  should  call  it  a  passing  over 
from  traditionalism  to  reality. 

"Now  it  was  that  the  revised  New  Testament  appeared. 


IN   CANADA  53 

The  first  copy  of  it  that  I  saw  was  sent  to  me  by  a  religious 
newspaper,  to  be  read  and  reported  upon.  I  welcomed  it  with 
all  my  heart,  and  used  it  in  public  worship  from  the  first 
Sunday.  One  of  my  men,  seeing  it  in  my  hand  on  that  first 
Sunday  morning,  said:  'I  hate  that.'  But  I  was  able  to  con- 
vince him  that  he  had  not  hated  wisely  or  understood  the 
book  that  he  hated.  How  glad  I  was  when  it  came !  I  re- 
membered back  into  the  days  when  revision  of  King  James 
Bible  was  discussed  among  American  Christians,  and  recalled 
the  bitterness  of  opposition — opposition  grounded  largely  in 
failure  to  understand  the  fact  that  the  Bible  is  a  translated 
book,  and  still  more  in  that  reverence  for  the  familiar  words 
which  sprang  from  belief  in  verbal  inspiration.  I  had  had  my 
hereditary  hesitations  about  revision,  but  they  were  long  since 
vanished.  And  now,  when  I  was  barely  in  middle  age,  the 
prejudice  against  revision  had  already  been  so  far  overcome 
that  the  book  was  actually  in  my  hands,  issued  with  splendid 
backing  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic.  Doubtless  it  was  not 
perfect,  and  it  had  still  to  win  its  way,  but  the  beginning  of 
improvement  had  been  made,  the  new  conditions  had  been 
established,  and  the  good  result  was  sure.  Now,  I  said  to 
myself,  those  things  that  I  had  known  to  be  true  about  many 
a  passage,  but  which  the  people  could  not  know  except 
through  explanations  which  they  might  deem  pedantic,  and 
destructive,  too,  could  be  known  to  all  readers.  Now,  when 
this  book  had  won  its  way,  the  thoughts  of  the  Bible  would 
be  more  independent  of  the  words:  there  was  some  chance 
that  people  who  hung  upon  the  very  words  of  Scripture  might 
come  to  glory  in  the  preciousness  of  the  very  thoughts  and  the 
very  truths.  Now  was  doomed  that  narrow  reverence  for 
the  very  words  which  gathered  around  the  impossible  doc- 
trine of  verbal  inspiration.  For  the  coming  of  this  book  was 
only  a  part  of  the  great  movement  of  the  age  toward  making 
the  Bible  and  Christ  and  divine  religion  more  real  to  people, 
a  movement  in  which  I  with  joy  would  bear  my  little  part. 
When  the  revised  Old  Testament  appeared,  four  years  later, 
there  was  less  of  thrill  and  glow  in  the  reception  of  it,  but  the 
welcome  was  the  same  in  principle.  The  Bible  was  now  more 
ready  to  my  hand  for  the  uses  to  which  I  was  called  to  put  it. 
I  grasped  the  revision  as  a  better  weapon  for  the  warfare  of 
the  Lord." 


54  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

He  had  a  very  busy  life  in  those  days.  The  Americaa 
Baptist  publication  society  waS  bringing  out  a  Bible  Com- 
vientary  to  which  he  was  to  contribute  a  volume  upon  the 
Gospel  of  ISIark.  For  some  months  the  nervous  clicking  of 
the  typewriter,  which  he  had  learned  to  use  when  he  began 
work  upon  the  commentary,  could  be  heard  during  the  morn- 
ing hours.  In  the  afternoon  he  was  usually  engaged  in  parish 
work.  His  sermons  came  largely  out  of  his  daily  experience 
and  were  all  the  better  for  that.  The  commentary  was  fin- 
ished in  1 88 1,  submitted  to  the  committee  of  the  publication 
society  for  examination,  approved  and  published,  and  the 
first  edition  was  in  use  before  the  responsible  heads  of  the 
society  became  aware,  through  protests  from  here  and  there, 
that  a  number  of  conservative  persons  were  finding  it  to  be 
heretical.  A  curious  correspondence  ensued  between  Clarke 
and  the  secretary  of  the  society,  with  the  result  that  in  the 
next  edition,  together  with  the  author's  interpretation  of  the 
eschatological  teachings  and  implications  of  the  thirteenth 
chapter  of  Mark,  there  appeared  an  alternative  view  con- 
tributed by  his  honored  friend.  Doctor  Hovey.  Then  and 
later,  the  two  scholars  agreed  to  disagree  in  the  most  amicable 
spirit. 

Montreal  during  the  colder  months  was  delightful  to  those 
who  had  plenty  of  food,  fuel,  and  furs,  and  the  fame  of  its  win- 
ter sports,  at  that  time  unique  but  since  widely  emulated,  was 
world-wide.  Even  those  who  did  not  indulge  in  these  plea- 
sures felt  the  stimulus  of  the  keen  clear  air  and  shared  sym- 
pathetically in  the  gayety  around  them.  But  the  winters 
were  long  and  there  were  many  offsets  and  drawbacks  to  the 
gayety.  The  poor  had  a  hard  struggle  with  the  rigorous 
climate  and  most  persons  of  moderate  means  could  feelingly 
re-echo  the  exclamation  of  a  city  pastor  with  a  large  family: 
"We  burn  up  in  winter  all  that  we  can  save  in  summer  !" 

An  exploitation  on  a  large  scale  of  the  winter  attractions 
of  Montreal  occurred  in  1883.    Then  the  first  ice  palace  was 


IN  CANADA 


55 


built.  It  was  in  the  form  of  a  mediaeval  castle,  and  when 
illmninated  from  within  by  white  electric  lights  it  seemed  as 
if  shapen  by  invisible  agencies  from  a  vast  moonstone,  and 
the  effect  was  indescribably  channing. 

There  were  dangers  due  to  the  vast  accumulations  of  snow 
and  ice,  and  there  were  many  steep  inclines  on  the  streets 
where  it  was  difficult  for  the  unaccustomed  to  keep  their 
footing,  and  sometimes  fatal  accidents  were  caused  by  the 
falling  of  snow  and  ice  from  roofs  that  were  seldom  cleared. 
When  the  snow  melted  streets  and  sidewalks  were  impassable 
in  places.  Spring  in  Montreal  was  the  sad  season  of  sickness 
and  death.    Then  a  Pandora's  box  of  dire  diseases  flew  open. 

Strangely  enough  the  summers  were  hot,  and  the  lightest 
clothing  was  donned,  with  amusingly  languorous  airs,  by 
loyal  Montrealers,  who  loved  to  call  attention  to  the  lavish 
kindness  of  Mother  Nature  to  favored  Canada  in  respect  of 
climate,  and  were  fain  to  exploit  their  heat  as  well  as  their 
cold. 

In  the  winter  of  1883,  in  descending  the  stone  steps  of  a 
house  where  he  had  been  calUng,  Clarke  shpped  on  an  icy 
place,  fell,  and  injured  his  knee.  He  was  taken  home  at  once 
and  the  best  surgical  aid  was  given,  but  the  injury  was  one 
that  could  not  be  perfectly  repaired.  He  was  confined  to 
his  bed  and  to  his  room  for  many  weeks,  and  when  he  was  at 
last  able,  after  using  crutches,  to  walk  with  only  a  cane  it 
was  evident  that  he  must  always  remain  partially  crippled 
and  that  parish  work  would  thenceforth  be  difficult.  While 
he  was  adjusting  his  thoughts  to  this  new  situation  the  pro- 
fessorship of  New  Testament  interpretation  in  the  Baptist 
Theological  School  in  Toronto  was  offered  to  him  and  ac- 
cepted. This  was  an  instance  of  the  way  in  which,  with- 
out anxious  thought  or  effort  of  his  own,  he  was  so  led  at 
each  turning-point  in  his  life  that  he  could  not  be  long  in 
doubt  as  to  the  next  step.  Not  without  grief  to  pastor  and 
people  was  this  change  made,  but  all  could  see  that  it  was 


56  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

necessary  and  right.  The  breaking  up  was  swiftly  accom- 
plished, the  farewells  were  said,  and  after  several  brief  visits 
at  other  places  and  a  longer  stay  at  Kennebunkport,  Maine, 
where  the  Stackpole  family  were  spending  vacation,  and 
there  were  other  friends,  we  spent  a  fortnight  in  Cazenovia, 
and  from  there  went  to  our  new  home. 

In  a  diary  used  for  occasional  records  of  events  and  re- 
flections the  following  entry  was  made  when  the  packing  of 
household  goods  for  removal  was  going  on  and  various  manu- 
scripts were  being  destroyed: 

"July  17,  1883.  What  to  do  with  old  sermons.  Feeling 
runs  very  strongly  against  them  as  against  things  that  have 
lived  their  Uttle  day  and  done  all  that  they  will  ever  do.  They 
seem  like  fossils  without  the  scientific  interest  that  made  them 
worth  preserving. 

"But  what  if  you  look  into  old  sermons  and  find  them  full 
of  new  theology?  Written,  too,  when  you  had  no  idea  of 
new  theology  and  supposed  it  to  be  all  as  sound  and  ancient 
as  any  theologian  could  wish.  Some  of  the  sermons  of  1869, 
September  to  December,  look  like  that,  and  on  a  sudden 
there  springs  up  a  kind  of  fondness  for  them  and  a  desire  to 
save  them  in  a  spirit  of  self- vindication.  Not  that  they  de- 
velop anything  fresh  or  modera,  in  modern  forms,  but  they 
innocently  enunciate  principles  that  would  lead  out  into  the 
new  country.  If  the  lines  were  projected  then,  without  my 
knowing  it,  no  wonder  that  they  have  been  followed  since. 

"Some  truths  are  here,  too,  that  I  thought  I  had  not  been 
preaching  until  recently;  truths  that  have  lately  grown  vital 
and  practical,  but  which  I  did  not  know  that  I  had  so  long 
ago  uttered.  It  is  a  peculiar  sensation  to  find  the  living  truth 
young  in  the  mind  already  existing  in  an  earlier  time. 

"It  was  then  the  preaching  of  youth,  simplicity,  unso- 
phisticated thought:  it  afterward  came  to  be  the  preaching 
of  maturer  and  more  intelligent  thinking,  into  which  the  old 
truth  had  returned  with  its  place  and  relations  more  clearly 
apprehended.  I  suppose  that  meanwhile  the  truth  was  never 
absent:  but  it  was  in  a  kind  of  retirement,  waiting  to  come 
forth  in  forms  better  suited  to  usefulness. 


IN   CANADA 


57 


''August  8.  A  pause  in  the  record,  but  not  much  in  the 
nature  of  a  pause  in  fact.  The  house  torn  up,  the  goods 
packed  and  sent  away,  farewell  to  Montreal  and  the  ending 
of  a  pastor's  life:  all  those  have  intervened.  Then  four  days 
in  the  White  Mountains  and  now  Kennebunkport.  No  time 
for  record  when  the  most  is  going  on. 

"Yet  this  has  not  been  so  eventful  a  time  inwardly  as 
outwardly.  There  has  been  Httle  of  agitation  in  the  changes. 
No  heart-burnings,  no  heart-breakings,  little  strong  strain 
upon  the  heart-strings.  There  was  no  reason  why  the  change, 
if  it  was  to  be  made,  should  not  be  made  quickly;  and  so  it 
was.  Real  regrets,  but  no  rebellion:  no  such  clinging  on  any 
one's  part  as  to  make  it  sorely  painful:  as  easy  a  departure 
as  any  one  could  have.  No  one  speeded,  but  no  one  retarded 
the  parting  friend.  All  the  deep  agitation  that  did  occur  was 
earher,  not  in  the  going  but  in  the  decision  to  go,  and  it  was 
over  before  this  record  was  begun. 

"August  26.  As  peaceful  a  Sabbath  morning  as  ever 
dawned  upon  the  earth.  God  speed  the  coming  of  Sabbaths 
to  all  mankind.  The  greater  part  of  the  human  race  as  yet 
knows  nothing  of  them,  and  to  many  who  do  know  of  them 
they  represent  denial  rather  than  permission,  cessation  of  the 
necessary  and  chosen  routine  rather  than  freedom  for  a 
necessary  and  chosen  privilege.  Sabbaths  must  come  in  with 
the  coming  more  abundantly  of  the  life  that  Christ  brings, 
for  they  are  the  best  breathing  time  of  that  Hfe.  So  the 
prayer  for  Sabbaths  is  'Thy  Kjngdom  Come.' 

''This  is  the  last  day  of  the  resting  time  in  Kennebunk- 
port. It  has  not  been  the  ideal  resting  time  in  all  respects — 
the  sea  has  been  too  far  off,  not  constantly  in  sight  or  hear- 
ing, yet  no  vacation  could  have  been  more  graciously  pro- 
vided with  what  was  essential  to  the  purpose  of  the  time. 
Never  was  a  man  partly  helpless,  really  dependent  on  others 
for  the  movements  that  were  necessary  for  the  regaining  of 
normal  strength,  better  provided  for.  Two  friends  at  hand 
with  boats  have  kept  the  means  of  exercise  and  pleasure  per- 
petually near.  Without  any  excess  of  exertion  and  with  af- 
fectionate help  at  hand  in  all  that  was  to  be  done,  it  has  been 
possible  and  easy  to  do  enough,  and  as  much  as  strength  al- 
lowed, and  to  obtain  a  good  benefit  from  the  time. 


58  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

"  Toronto,  September  23.  It  seems  natural  to  look  back 
on  the  pause  in  work,  the  interval  between  two  lives. 

"  Four  days  in  the  White  Mountains:  three  weeks  in  Ken- 
nebunkport,  four  days  in  Boston,  four  days  in  Newton  Centre. 
Two  weeks  in  Cazenovia,  including  two  days  at  Hamilton: 
that  is  the  outline. 

''  A  sweet  and  most  loving  reunion  at  Cazenovia  of  all  of 
us  who  remain — a  happy  season  together,  whose  very  happi- 
ness, more  than  any  words  of  remembrance  that  were  spoken, 
revived  the  memory  of  a  true  home  in  early  years." 

A  little  before  the  opening  of  the  Theological  School  we 
reached  Toronto  and  were  guests  for  a  fortnight  or  more  in 
the  home  of  Doctor  John  H.  Castle,  the  president,  who  with 
Mrs.  Castle  showed  us  the  utmost  kindness  at  that  time  and 
ever  afterward. 

After  a  dreary  and  futile  experience  in  seeking  a  suitable 
boarding-place,  and  in  house-hunting,  we  took  a  student's 
suite  of  three  rooms  in  MacMaster  Hall,  furnished  them  with 
our  own  belongings,  and  there  we  remained  during  the  first 
seminary  year,  which  was  short,  as  the  Divinity  School  closed 
early  in  order  to  give  the  students  a  long  vacation  for  mis- 
sionary work  and  the  supplying  of  churches. 

The  following  paragraph  from  a  letter  dated  November  5, 
1883,  shows  a  woman's  view  of  their  new  environment: 

"As  for  the  city  and  the  surroundings  into  which  we  have 
fallen — the  city  is  extremely  pleasant,  looking,  as  some  one 
has  said,  like  an  overgrown  village.  A  large  proportion  of 
the  houses  are  detached,  with  pretty  grass  plots  in  front,  and 
some  are  surrounded  with  beautiful  grounds.  It  is  emphat- 
ically a  city  of  homes,  and  although  it  has  not  the  historical 
interest  or  the  vivid  picturesqueness  of  Montreal,  it  is,  I  be- 
lieve, a  better  place  in  which  to  dwell." 

After  a  time  we  found  a  newly  built  house  in  a  good  loca- 
tion, at  the  corner  of  Huntley  and  Selby  Streets,  a  little  be- 
low Bloor  and  only  a  short  distance  from  Sherboume,  where 
a  street-car  line  made  every  part  of  the  city  accessible,  and 


IN  CANADA  59 

65  Huntley  Street  was  our  home  while  we  remained  in  To- 
ronto. It  was  near  Rosedale,  an  open,  park-like  region,  where 
as  yet  there  were  only  a  few  residences.  It  was  a  pleasant  walk 
along  Bloor  Street  to  MacMaster  Hall,  and  Castle,  who  lived 
on  Sherbourne  Street,  used  often  to  pick  up  Clarke  at  his 
own  door,  and  the  two  friends  had  much  intimate  conversa- 
tion during  their  morning  walk  to  the  Divinity  School.  Quite 
unlike  in  some  respects,  both  were  gifted  with  the  same 
broad  humanity  and  serenity  of  spirit,  and  were  apt  to  view 
things  in  the  same  light. 

"June  15,  1884.  Commencement  at  Hamilton,  New 
York,  20th  to  Cazenovia,  22nd  to  Waverly.  27th  the  fall 
that  has  cost  me  the  use  of  my  right  elbow.  End  of  August 
back  to  Toronto.    September  28th,  in  our  own  home." 

Much  is  summed  up  in  the  few  words  which  refer  to 
the  accident  by  which  Clarke  was  now  doubly  disabled.  In 
going  down  the  stairs  in  the  house  where  we  were  stay- 
ing, at  Waverly,  my  old  home,  he  had  sHpped  and  fallen, 
striking  his  right  elbow,  which  was  shattered.  It  was  before 
the  day  of  X-ray  examinations  and  the  daring  and  brilliant 
surgery  now  possible.  The  result  of  such  skill  and  care  as 
could  be  given  was  an  imperfect  flexion  of  the  elbow-joint 
and  a  consequent  disuse  of  certain  muscles.  Some  move- 
ments of  the  arm  were  ever  afterward  less  free  and  some 
were  impossible.  He  could  never  again  tie  his  own  cravat  or 
even  handle  his  knife  and  fork  as  before.  Physically  ham- 
pered at  every  turn,  he  bore  this  new  limitation  of  his  powers 
with  quiet  heroism,  well  knowing  how  much  it  meant,  as  the 
fall  was  without  doubt  due  to  his  weak  and  stiffened  knee, 
and  this  fact  was  ominous. 

As  soon  as  he  had  recovered  a  little  from  the  first  shock  of 
the  accident  he  began  to  write  with  his  left  hand,  and  pathetic 
indeed  seemed  the  first  scrawls  which  he  sent  to  his  friends, 
although  he  jested  easily  about  the  discreditable  appearance 


6o  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

of  these  epistles.  One  of  them  came  to  light  recently  in  a 
package  of  letters  to  his  friend  Stackpole,  which  after  his 
death  had  been  returned  to  the  writer,  and  it  recalled  with 
painful  sharpness  the  whole  train  of  accidents  distributed 
through  the  years  that  followed  that  fateful  shp  in  Mon- 
treal. After  that  not  a  single  year  passed  without  some  mis- 
hap, slight  or  serious,  due  to  the  lame,  uncertain  knee. 

The  following  extracts  from  a  diary  and  note-book  show 
something  of  Clarke's  thinking  during  the  last  months  of  his 
stay  in  Toronto. 

"January  i,  1887.  Believing  the  Bible  was  once  held 
practically  as  more  vital  to  religion  than  lo\dng  and  trusting 
Christ,  it  was  thought  a  part  of  religion  to  believe  that  Ruth 
married  Boaz. 

''January  3.  Read  on  train  Lessing's  Nathan  the  Wise. 
Awkward  translation,  disappointing.  A  lesson  of  religious 
toleration  is  the  main  moral  of  the  play,  but  it  is  taught  in 
forms  that  have  only  an  artificial  hold  upon  the  mind  and 
upon  the  ordinary  conscience. 

''January  9.  A  life  enriched  with  what  our  Lord  calls  life 
eternal. 

"January  17.  Address  to  young  people's  association  of 
Bloor  Street  church  on  the  Glory  of  God  in  the  Starry 
Heavens. 

"The  vast  suggestiveness  of  the  thought  of  dark  worlds. 
If  a  God  greater  than  so  great  a  universe  is  unthinkable,  much 
more  so  is  so  great  a  universe  without  a  greater  God.  The 
one  is  simply  too  great  for  us  to  think ;  the  latter  is  absurd. 

"January  18.  We  think  we  are  suffering  with  Christ 
when  some  one  is  coming  after  us  with  a  persecuting  spirit. 
So  we  may  be,  but  more  truly  yet  are  we  suffering  with 
Christ  when  we  are  going  after  some  one,  at  all  cost,  with 
saving  love. 

"January  19.  Changes  are  coming  as  fast  as  the  age  can 
healthily  bear  them,  and  in  some  things  faster.  The  spirit 
of  change  is  in  the  air  and  there  is  Uttle  need  of  putting  one's 
strength  to  the  work  of  change.  If  we  can  help  to  keep  the 
air  itself  sweet  and  pure,  that  will  be  a  better  service. 


IN  CANADA  6i 

"  January  23.  Two  ways  of  preaching;  to  talk  about  great 
things  and  to  utter  them.  To  tell  of  the  nature  of  true  Chris- 
tian appeal  and  to  make  it.  The  former  is  easy,  the  latter 
hard.  The  former  may  seem  to  render  patience  superfluous 
by  going  at  once  to  the  point.  But  the  point  is  not  really 
reached  and  the  appearance  of  swift  success  is  misleading. 
The  latter  is  the  only  successful  way. 

^^ March  6.     God's  gift  of  heartiness. 

^^ April  I.  In  morals,  religion,  theology,  nothing  that  is 
artificial  is  true.  What  is  artificial  may  contain  much  truth 
and  may  approach  more  or  less  closely  to  the  truth;  but  in 
so  far  as  it  is  artificial  it  bears  the  marks  of  human  labor  and 
invention,  the  sign  of  effort  in  discovering  and  devising,  and 
lacks  the  simplicity  and  naturalness  that  will  finally  be  found 
in  truth.  To  God  all  that  is  true  must  be  simple  and  unla- 
bored, free  of  invention  and  special  application.  To  say  that 
something  is  true  is  to  say  that  it  cannot  be  otherwise:  where- 
as whatever  is  artificial  can  be  other  than  it  is  and  would  be 
better  for  being  simpler." 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON 

"Semper  aut  discere,  aut  docere,  aut  scribere,  dulce  habui." — Bede. 

In  the  spring  of  1887  Clarke  was  called  to  the  pastorate 
of  the  church  in  Hamilton,  New  York,  which  had  been  made 
vacant  in  the  summer  of  1886  by  the  death  of  his  friend, 
Stephen  H.  Stackpole. 

His  seven  years  in  Montreal  and  Toronto  had  been  busy 
and  fruitful.  His  experience  in  Canada  had  broadened  his 
outlook  and  furthered  the  development  of  his  powers,  but 
he  had  begun  to  feel  a  yearning  for  his  own  country,  and  this 
call  could  not  be  resisted. 

Among  the  first  to  meet  him  with  a  cordial  welcome  were 
some  of  his  old  teachers.  Dodge  was  now  president  of  the 
university.  Andrews  was  at  the  head  of  the  department  of 
Greek.  Taylor,  a  later  friend,  was  already  known  among  edu- 
cators as  a  mathematician.  Brooks,  a  man  of  deep  insight 
and  flashing  genius,  who  had  been  pastor  of  the  church  dur- 
ing Clarke's  student  days,  was  now  teaching  biology  in  the 
university,  and  a  rare  teacher  he  made. 

Beebee  and  Harvey  were  still  in  the  theological  seminary. 
Maynard,  who  had  come  later,  had  the  chair  of  church  his- 
tory. In  charge  of  the  Semitic  department  was  Burnham, 
who  was  a  student  at  Newton  when  Clarke  began  his  work 
there. 

Nathaniel  Schmidt,  a  young  man  of  unusual  linguistic 
attainments  and  acumen  as  a  critic,  was  soon  added  to  the 
Semitic  department.  He  remained  at  Hamilton  until  1896, 
when  he  was  called  to  take  charge  of  a  kindred  department 
in  Cornell  University. 

Another  notable  addition  to  the  university  faculty  was 

62 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  63 

Albert  Perry  Brigham,  now  widely  known  as  a  geologist  and 
geographer. 

The  village  was  still  charmingly  old-fashioned,  the  typical 
secluded  seat  of  the  country  college.  Very  sweet  and  peace- 
ful everything  seemed  after  the  seven  years  of  city  life. 

This  was  the  outward  aspect  during  the  lovely  weeks  of 
early  summer.  It  was  not  long  before  the  inherent  tragedy 
of  human  existence  began  to  unveil  itself.  The  village,  with 
the  region  around  it,  is  an  epitome  of  the  experiences  that 
rack  or  rejoice  humanity.  One  does  not  need  to  dwell  in  the 
city  to  know  life  in  all  its  depth  and  poignancy.  Within  the 
boundaries  of  this  new  field  of  labor  almost  every  kind  of 
evil-doing  had  been  enacted,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  every 
noble  trait  of  human  nature  had  been  shown. 

Country  people  know  each  other  and  know  of  all  that  is 
happening,  and  the  tug  of  S3rmpathy  upon  one's  heart  is  no 
less  incessant  than  in  the  city.  The  demands  upon  the  pas- 
tor of  this  country  church  and  his  opportunities  for  service 
were  unlimited. 

In  the  church  were  some  of  his  own  kindred  and  many 
others  whom  he  already  knew.  The  settlement  in  Hamilton 
was  indeed  a  home-coming.  Nothing  could  have  been  hap- 
pier for  a  man  of  his  temperament  who  clung  instinctively  to 
old  associations  and  old  ties,  and  very  happy  he  was,  though 
often  heavily  burdened  through  all  the  time  of  his  pastorate. 
In  those  days  the  people  generally,  young  and  old,  went  to 
church.  His  congregation,  of  which  the  students  made  a  large 
part,  was  stimulating  and  inspiring.  The  best  and  highest 
that  he  could  give  met  an  eager  response. 

The  daily  life  of  the  people,  very  like  that  of  his  native 
place,  which  was  only  a  few  miles  away,  he  entered  into  with 
understanding  and  sympathy.  There,  as  elsewhere,  he  soon 
won  the  confidence  and  love  of  the  young  people,  and  his  in- 
fluence lives  on  in  those  who  were  children  and  youth  at 
that  time. 


64  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

The  social  life  had  a  distinctive  charm.  In  that  small 
out-of-the-way  place  were  fine  minds  and  delightful  person- 
alities. There  were  those  whom  to  meet  was  as  the  friendly 
clash  of  flint  and  steel,  and  there  were  dweUings  where  one 
felt  at  home  from  the  first  hour  and  always. 

His  power  as  a  preacher  was  now  fully  developed.  In  his 
last  sermon  in  Montreal,  believing  that  he  was  bidding  fare- 
well to  the  ministry,  he  had  poured  out  his  soul  in  lofty  eu- 
logium  upon  his  office  and  the  work  that  he  was  leaving,  and 
had  exclaimed  with  passion  which  thrilled  the  audience:  "The 
pulpit  has  been  to  me  as  a  throne ! " 

To  that  throne  he  had  now  returned  and  he  felt  an  inex- 
pressible joy  in  his  calling  and  his  work.  He  loved  every 
part  of  it.  His  lameness  was  a  serious  limitation  upon  his 
ability  to  do  many  things  required  of  a  settled  pastor.  He 
walked  a  good  deal,  but  he  could  not  take  the  vigorous  exer- 
cise that  he  needed.  There  was  driving  to  visit  parishioners 
upon  the  hills  and  in  the  valleys,  and  whatever  took  him  out- 
of-doors  was  good,  yet  his  study-table  held  him  for  too  many 
hours  in  the  day.  Youthful  always  in  spirit,  he  was  rapidly 
growing  old  in  body.  At  forty-seven  years  of  age  he  looked 
long  past  fifty.  Men  older  than  he  took  him  to  be  their 
senior. 

Suddenly  he  was  taken  out  of  the  pastorate  and  placed  in 
the  chair  of  theology.  The  death  of  Doctor  Dodge,  January 
5,  1890,  made  his  place  vacant  in  the  seminary,  and  his  col- 
leagues requested  the  church  to  release  Clarke  from  a  part 
of  his  duties  in  order  that  he  might  finish  the  year  of  teach- 
ing in  theology.  A  sorrowful  consent  was  given,  for  every 
one  foresaw  the  result.  At  the  university  commencement  in 
June  he  was  urged  to  accept  an  election  to  the  professorship 
in  theology,  and  he  consented. 

He  had  often  congratulated  himself  while  he  was  teach- 
ing New  Testament  interpretation  that  he  did  not  have  to 
teach  theology.    The  great  problems  with  which  the  theolo- 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  65 

gian  has  to  deal  had  long  been  before  him.  He  had  faced 
them  many  times  in  his  study  and  he  had  not  hesitated  to 
give  utterance  in  his  sermons  to  any  truth  that  he  plainly 
saw,  but  there  were  doctrinal  points  upon  which  he  was  not 
decided.  He  did  not  need  to  "preach  his  doubts,"  but  things 
held  in  abeyance  while  he  was  seeking  fuller  light  would  have 
to  be  discussed  in  a  classroom.  Why  should  he,  a  lover  of 
peace,  leave  the  pastorate  to  enter  upon  a  lifelong  warfare? 
Every  argument  seemed  in  favor  of  his  remaining  where  he 
was,  but  in  his  inmost  self  he  felt  a  constraining  necessity  to 
enter  the  door  that  was  set  open  before  him. 

When  the  autumn  term  opened  he  began  the  work  for 
which  the  whole  tenor  and  experience  of  his  previous  years 
had  been  preparing  him.  In  carrying  along  the  unfinished 
work  of  the  year  before  he  had  used  the  text-book  prepared 
by  Doctor  Dodge,  but  the  supply  of  these  books  had  been 
exhausted,  and  in  any  case  he  must  do  his  work  in  his  own 
way.  So  he  wrote  and  manifolded  day  by  day,  and  gave  his 
students,  piece  by  piece,  the  course  in  theology  as  it  took 
shape  in  his  mind.    This  he  did  for  several  years. 

In  February  of  1890  in  walking  along  an  icy  pavement  I 
had  fallen  and  had  broken  my  hip.  The  injury,  too  lightly 
regarded  and  wrongly  diagnosed,  was  only  understood  a 
month  later  and  the  expert  treatment  given  then  came  too 
late.  A  long  train  of  painful  results  followed,  with  a  general 
physical  decline  so  serious  that  the  physician  advised  a  win- 
ter in  a  mild  climate.  By  an  exchange  of  time  with  a  col- 
league in  the  seminary,  Clarke  was  enabled  to  spend  three 
months  in  1892  in  California.  We  went  to  Los  Angeles, 
where  we  were  met  by  my  nephew  and  my  niece,  already 
there  in  search  of  health,  and  together  we  occupied  a  house 
in  a  pleasant  locality.  The  experiences  of  the  winter  were 
interesting  and  the  climate  proved  beneficial  to  all.  Dur- 
ing the  following  year  I  was  able  to  remain  at  home,  but  a 
second  more  alarming  failure  of  health  followed,  and  at  the 


66  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

beginning  of  December,  1893,  we  were  again  in  California, 
after  spending  two  months  at  Colorado  Springs.  Having 
heard  of  Pomona  as  a  good  place  for  quiet  people,  we  tried 
Pomona  and  the  Palomares  Hotel  for  a  week  and  decided  to 
spend  the  winter  there.  It  was  early  in  the  season  and  the 
Palomares  was  almost  empty  of  guests,  so  the  manager  gave 
these  first  comers  the  most  delightful  room  in  the  house.  It 
had  a  large  window  facing  the  east,  a  bay  window  looking 
upon  the  lawn  and  northward,  and  a  fireplace.  The  east 
window  gave  a  wonderful  view  of  the  valley  and  the  moun- 
tains. Far  away  rose  San  Bernardino  and  San  Jacinto,  look- 
ing like  near  companions,  though  each  stood  solitary  and 
magnificent  in  its  own  expanse  of  desert.  San  Jacinto  with 
its  colossal  architectural  forms,  at  morning  and  evening  re- 
splendent in  light  and  color,  seemed  like  Jerusalem  the 
Golden.  Farther  north  the  Cucamonga  Range  ran  in  a  north- 
westerly direction,  reaching  the  sea  near  Santa  Barbara. 
These  mountains  lay  in  the  sunshine  all  day  long,  catching 
the  first  rosy  tints  of  morning,  changing  in  light  and  hue  as 
the  hours  advanced,  and  glorious  at  eventide.  For  two 
months  the  travellers  had  been  watching  Pike's  Peak,  which 
lies  westward  from  Colorado  Springs,  and,  rich  in  color  early 
in  the  day,  loses  the  glory  of  sunshine  and  is  sombre  in  the 
afternoon. 

For  comfort  was  the  fireplace,  much  used  morning  and 
evening,  and  for  order  an  ample  closet.  Clarke  added  a  type- 
writer and  its  table  and  a  small  bookcase  to  the  equipments 
of  the  room.  Some  adornments  came  out  of  trunks,  and  there 
we  were  in  a  little  home  of  our  own  that  was  always  pleasant 
to  remember. 

Clarke  settled  down  happily  to  the  revision  of  his  work 
in  theology  and  carried  it  to  completion.  In  Pomona  we 
stayed  from  the  2d  of  December  to  the  middle  of  April. 
A  comfortable  buggy  and  a  good  horse  were  found  at  one  of 
the  stables,  and  long  mornings  were  spent  in  driving  over  the 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  67 

country  with  little  regard  to  roads,  which  were  mere  wheel 
tracks  running  every  way  through  the  sage-brush,  and  in  ex- 
ploring the  canyons.  From  a  cottage  at  San  Dimas,  where 
we  sometimes  stopped,  was  a  most  entrancing  view  of  the 
Cucamonga  Range. 

There  was  something  new  to  see  each  day  as  the  season 
advanced  and  vegetation  awoke  from  its  brief  winter  sleep 
and  unfolded  leaves  and  flowers.  Many  incidents,  delight- 
ful at  the  time,  were  treasured  in  memory.  We  were  driving 
one  day  along  the  entrance  of  a  canyon,  where  in  an  open 
space  stood  three  large,  live-oaks  with  wide-spreading  branches 
that  held  masses  of  mistletoe  which  had  grown  into  great 
green  balls.  As  we  approached  we  heard  a  purling  and  rip- 
pling music  and  saw  that  the  trees  were  alive  with  larks. 
Each  was  piping  quite  independently  of  the  others,  and  the 
effect  of  this  rain  of  sweet  notes  was  something  like  the  sing- 
ing of  a  mountain  brook  rippling  over  stones  and  falling  here 
and  there  in  tiny  cascades. 

We  sat  for  a  long  time  listening  to  this  strange  music, 
knowing  well  that  it  was  a  unique  episode  in  our  life.  We 
never  heard  the  like  again. 

There  was  a  tiny,  sparkling  mountain  stream  which  we 
loved  and  often  visited  in  the  steep,  shady  canyon  that  was 
its  home.  We  used  to  greet  it  joyously  with  "Good  morning, 
little  stream,"  as  it  came  singing  and  dancing  to  meet  us  like 
a  friendly  mountain  sprite. 

*'Carpe  diem''''  was  our  motto,  and  there  were  days  of 
glorious  sunshine  when  to  be  out  beneath  the  open  sky  of  the 
South,  cloudless,  deeply,  wonderfully  blue  and  far  away,  was 
almost  too  much  joy.  We  came  to  know  some  of  the  ranchers 
in  their  rose-covered  cottages,  set  in  the  green  and  gold  of 
orange-groves,  and  sometimes  we  would  stop  and  sit  for  a 
while  on  a  veranda,  chatting  with  our  new  acquaintances, 
and  thus  these  days  of  health-seeking  were  touched  with 
human  interest  and  sympathy.    Most  of  the  families  on  those 


ijMi'iiinrtif; 


68  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

small  ranches  had  come  from  distant  homes  for  the  sake  of 
some  one's  health,  and  pathetic  histories  were  sometimes  told. 

Friendly  relations  early  grew  up  with  the  townspeople. 
After  Clarke  had  preached  once,  the  pastors  of  one  and  an- 
other church  asked  for  his  aid,  and  so  it  came  to  pass  that 
during  his  stay  in  Pomona  he  preached  to  almost  every  con- 
gregation in  the  town.  He  became  interested  in  Pomona  Col- 
lege, then  in  its  early  youth. 

Here  are  a  few  extracts  from  Clarke's  diary: 

^'December  2.  (His  birthday).  Left  the  train  at  North 
Pomona  and  were  brought  to  the  Palomares  at  Pomona.  Let- 
ter writing  by  both  in  the  afternoon,  sitting  bareheaded  on 
the  veranda,  on  the  shady  side. 

^^ December  15.  Obtained  a  Remington  typewriter  on 
rental  after  vainly  working  with  a  borrowed  caligraph  a  few 
days.  Afternoon  drive  to  Lordsburg  and  to  Mr.  Howland's 
olive  orchard  where  we  saw  the  making  of  oHve  oil.  Reading 
in  Lowell's  poems. 

*^  December  2,0.  One  of  the  finest  of  days.  Drive  forenoon 
to  Mr.  Firey's  ranch,  oranges  from  the  trees.  Each  day  at 
work  on  my  Tlieology. 

^^ January  26.  A  fine  day  at  home,  afternoon  walk,  6 
pages.  Have  read  this  week  'in  the  Naturalist  in  La  Plata 
and,  aloud,  Miss  Dougall's  What  Necessity  Knows.  Pages 
finished  in  Tlieology,  130." 

The  book  mentioned  was  the  latest  of  a  succession  of 
fine  and  curiously  original  novels,  which  had  a  double  inter- 
est for  us  by  reason  of  a  valued  friendship  with  the  Dougall 
family  in  Montreal. 

Clarke's  diary  of  this  period,  beginning  July  17,  1893, 
and  ending  May  24,  1894,  upon  our  arrival  at  home,  recalls 
everything  so  xividly  that  it  has  been  difficult  to  write  briefly 
of  those  months  in  California.  At  the  end  of  the  diary  is  a 
list  of  dates  and  places  of  preaching  by  which  it  appears  that 
he  gave  eight  sermons  in  Colorado  Springs,  and  twenty-three 
during  the  five  months  and  a  half  in  Pomona  and  also  several 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  69 

addresses.  This  was  work  by  the  way.  The  real  business  of 
the  time  was  rest  and  health-seeking  for  two,  yet  the  The- 
ology was  wholly  rewritten,  sent  to  the  press  in  sections,  cor- 
rected and  finished  except  the  final  revision  of  page  proofs, 
which  was  done  at  home.  It  was  printed  for  the  author,  not 
published,  by  the  University  Press  at  Cambridge,  Massa- 
chusetts, and  began  to  be  used  by  the  students  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  fall  term  in  1894.  Clarke  sent  copies  of  it  to  his 
most  intimate  friends  and  to  some  others  modern  in  spirit, 
who,  he  had  reason  to  believe,  would  give  it  a  welcome. 

The  book  made  friends  for  its  author  of  those  who  had 
been  strangers  before,  and  letters  of  cordial  appreciation  came 
from  all  who  had  received  it.  Through  these  early  readers 
the  book  became  known  to  one  and  another  of  kindred  s>Tn- 
pathies,  and  pastors  and  teachers  began  to  apply  to  the  author 
for  copies.  The  writer  of  this  memoir  has  examined  a  copy  of 
the  Outline,  which  bears  significant  and  touching  marks.  It 
was  used  during  that  first  year  by  a  student  who  is  now  a 
teacher  in  the  Theological  Seminary  of  Colgate  University. 
Upon  the  title-page,  by  request,  the  author  had  written  his 
name.  Upon  the  blank  page  opposite  is  the  following  quo- 
tation : 

"The  spiritual  reality  that  constitutes  the  heart  of  Chris- 
tianity is  a  divine,  holy  life  in  the  soul  of  man,  making  him  a 
new  creature  in  holy  love  and  godhness." 

Scattered  through  the  book  are  sayings  of  the  teacher 
jotted  down  upon  the  margins  of  the  pages  under  discussion, 
as  they  flashed  forth  in  the  classroom.  Some  pages  are  bor- 
dered on  every  side  with  those  quotations  of  apt,  incisive, 
luininous  utterances.  Other  students  marked  their  copies  of 
the  text-book  in  a  similar  way.  If  all  those  hasty  notes  were 
gathered  together  a  volume  could  be  made  of  rich,  epigram- 
matic expressions  upon  the  highest  themes. 

During  the  winter  of  1898  Clarke  made  a  careful  revision 


^MShshsaaiS 


70  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

of  the  book  and  it  was  published  by  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 
Ofifered  now  to  the  public,  it  at  once  attracted  attention  and 
soon  became  widely  known. 

The  following  paragraph,  from  a  review  by  Doctor  Mar- 
cus Dods,  seems  almost  too  familiar  to  be  used  here,  yet  it 
expresses  better  than  any  other  the  surprise  and  deUght  of 
many  readers: 

"Has  it  ever  happened  to  any  of  our  readers  to  take  up 
a  work  on  systematic  theology  with  the  familiar  divisions, 
God,  Man,  Christ,  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  Church,  the  Last 
Things,  and  open  it  with  a  sigh  of  weariness  and  dread,  and 
find  himself  fascinated  and  enthralled  and  compelled  to  read 
on  to  the  last  word  ?  Let  any  one  who  craves  a  new  experi- 
ence of  this  kind  procure  Doctor  Clarke's  Outline." 

The  following  extracts  are  from  Chapter  VIII  of  the  life 
of  Bishop  Edward  Gayer  Andrews,  by  Francis  J.  McCon- 
nell: 

"According  to  the  bishop's  own  statement,  the  turning 
of  a  new  comer  in  his  thinking  came  with  the  publication 
of  Professor  William  Newton  Clarke's  Outline  of  Christian 
Theology,  in  1898.  Bishop  Andrews  had  had  some  acquain- 
tance with  Professor  Clarke  in  early  days  at  Cazenovia,  and 
the  personal  interest  in  the  professor  led  to  the  reading  of  the 
book.  Perhaps  a  knowledge  of  the  character  of  the  author 
predisposed  the  bishop  to  a  favorable  attitude.  In  any  case, 
the  book,  by  the  symmetry  of  its  method  and  the  charm  of 
its  spirit,  influenced  the  bishop  profoundly.  The  following  are 
extracts  from  correspondence  which  passed  between  the  bishop 
and  Professor  Clarke: 

"New  York,  March  27,  1899. 
"Professor  W.  N.  Clarke, 

"My  Dear  Brotlier:  Though  holding  through  many  past 
years  a  very  pleasant  remembrance  of  yourself  and  of  your 
most  estimable  father,  mother,  and  sister,  I  had  in  my  many 
movements  through  the  country  lost  sight  of  yourself  and 
your  work. 


i 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  71 

''But  last  summer,  being  in  the  study  of  a  young  minis- 
ter, I  found  that  he  had  read  with  great  pleasure  and  profit 
An  Outline  of  Christian  Theology,  by  Professor  W.  N.  Clarke, 
of  Colgate  University.  ...  I  bought  the  volume  and  during 
the  summer  vacation  read  and  reread  it  with  great  interest 
and  with  thankfulness  for  this  new  and  most  admirable  set- 
ting of  Christian  truth. 

"My  wife  also  has  read  it  with  equal  pleasure  and  also  my 
daughter,  Mrs.  Ingraham.  .  .  .  And  I  have  often  recom- 
mended it  to  ministers  who  seemed  to  be  in  a  posture  and  of 
a  quality  of  mind  likely  to  be  profited  by  it. 

"I  may  be  permitted  to  say,  without  fear  of  suspicion 
that  I  attempt  flattery,  that  a  nobler  combination  of  freedom 
and  conservatism,  of  clear  intellectual  processes  with  the 
sweetness  and  fervor  of  devoutness,  of  strength  of  material 
with  grace  of  form,  has  rarely  or  never  come  to  my  hbrary. 

"I  am  greatly  pleased  to  think  that  I  knew  in  his  early 
years  the  author,  and  among  other  things  to  note  in  this  case 
how  the  godly  home  of  a  pastor  has  yielded  such  admirable 
fruit. 

"Sincerely  yours, 

"Edward  G.  Andrews." 

Professor  Clarke  replied  in  a  letter  largely  personal,  from 
which  the  following  excerpts  are  made: 

"Hamilton,  N.  Y.,  March  30,  1899. 

"My  dear  Bishop  Andrews:  Your  letter  was  equally  sur- 
prising and  delightful.  That  you  should  enjoy  and  approve 
my  book  could  not  fail  to  gladden  me,  and  that  you  should 
take  time  to  tell  me  of  it,  and  welcome  me  so  warmly  to  your 
circle  of  thought  and  friendly  feeling — how  can  I  fail  to  thank 
you  lovingly  for  this?  You  have  always  been  a  fixed  point 
for  admiration  and  approval  in  my  mind,  and  I  have  thought 
with  constant  pleasure  of  your  strong  and  honorable  service 
in  a  laborious  office  for  the  good  of  the  church. 

"I  have  been  preaching  most  of  my  life,  and  in  1890,  most 
unexpectedly,  I  found  myself  teaching  theology — the  last 
thing  I  had  ever  looked  forward  to  doing.  But  it  has  been  a 
perpetual  delight  and  an  unspeakable  privilege.  The  book 
is  tie  outcome.    I  printed  it  privately  in  1894,  and  in  1898  I 


/-' 


WILLL\M  NEWTON  CLARKE 


revised  and  published  it,  as  you  know.  It  seems  to  be  doing 
good,  for  I  am  constantly  hearing  of  it  in  unexpected  quar- 
ters as  welcome.  Bishop  Vincent  became  interested  in  it 
in  the  earlier  form  and  commended  it  here  and  there.  .  .  . 
I  seem  to  have  spoken  somehow  to  the  unuttered  thoughts 
of  many,  and  that  is  the  surest  way  to  get  a  hearing.  .  .  . 
''Sincerely  yours, 

"William  N.  Clarke." 

During  all  the  years  in  Hamilton  it  was  a  source  of  hap- 
piness to  Clarke  that  he  was  near  Cazeno\da,  where  his 
younger  sister,  Mrs.  Goff,  had  always  remained.  She  was  the 
wife  of  a  self-sacrificing,  untiring  country  physician,  whose 
life  she  shared  with  wonderful  comprehension  and  sympathy. 

Mrs.  WiUiam  Clarke  had  her  home  with  her  daughter. 
She  was  a  typical  gentlewoman  of  the  old  school,  and  such 
were  even  then  becoming  few.  She  had  always  at  hand  some 
piece  ot  useful  needlework  or  knitting,  and  yet  she  seemed 
to  be  at  leisure  at  any  time  for  the  casual  visitor  or  for  one  of 
the  household.  She  was  immaculate  in  person  and  attire, 
wearing  old-fashioned  caps  of  snowy  muslin  or  lace  and  folds 
of  the  same  soft  fabric  about  her  neck.  Devout  in  habit, 
dignified  in  mien  and  speech,  she  grew  more  beautiful  in  her 
declining  years.  In  1887,  when  Clarke  went  to  Hamilton, 
she  was  in  her  eightieth  year,  very  frail  in  body,  yet  men- 
tally strong  and  bright.    She  passed  away  IMay  6,  1888. 

There  were  two  children  in  the  home,  Robert  Judson 
and  Marian  Ruth.  Robert  Goff  entered  Colgate  University 
and  spent  four  years  in  the  home  of  his  uncle.  He  gradu- 
ated in  1902.  Marian  became  the  wife  of  Theodore  Han- 
ford  Pond,  son  of  Theodore  S.  Pond,  missionary  in  Syria 
under  the  American  Board,  and  later  in  Venezuela.  Robert 
was  married  March  22,  1904,  to  Sarah  Humphrey  Wells, 
daughter  of  W.  Delos  Wells  and  Sarah  Humphrey  Torrey, 
and  granddaughter  of  Doctor  David  Torrey,  a  former  pastor 
of  the  Presbyterian  Church  in  Cazenovia.     Their  only  son 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  73 

is  thus  the  great  grandson  of  two  pastors,  settled  long  over 
churches  in  Cazenovia,  who  were  typical  of  their  time  and  of 
their  respective  denominations,  and  both  eminently  useful  in 
the  community  they  served.  Many  old  colonial  lines  of  de- 
scent converge  in  that  quiet  home  in  Cazenovia,  where  the 
best  traditions  of  an  excellent  inheritance  are  honored  and 
cherished. 

Miss  Mary,  Clarke's  devoted  older  sister,  and  good  com- 
rade always,  after  retiring  from  her  work  in  Boston  as  sec- 
retary-treasurer of  the  Women's  Baptist  Foreign  Mission- 
ary Society,  spent  some  time  in  Hamilton.  She  was  married 
in  September,  1896,  to  her  long-time  friend  and  associate, 
Doctor  J.  N.  Murdock,  foreign  secretary  of  the  Baptist  Mis- 
sionary Union,  who  lived  only  a  few  months.  After  his  death 
she  returned  to  her  brother's  home  and  spent  there  the  brief 
remainder  of  her  life.    Her  death  was  on  July  3,  1897. 

In  the  summer  of  1899  Clarke  was  one  of  the  lecturers  in 
the  Harvard  Summer  School  of  Theology.  The  work  given 
there  was  published  under  the  title,  Can  I  Believe  in  God 
the  Father.  Later  in  the  same  year  he  gave  the  Levering 
Lectures  at  Johns  Hopkins  University,  and  those  lectures 
made  a  book  called.  What  Shall  We  Think  of  Christianity? 
In  addition  to  his  work  in  theology,  Clarke  gave  several 
elective  courses  to  his  students.  There  was  one  in  Chris- 
tian Missions,  one  in  Comparative  Religions,  one  in  Ethics, 
and  one  in  Apologetics.  These  courses  were  given  in  alter- 
nation, two  in  each  year.  Out  of  the  first  grew  A  Study 
in  Christian  Missions,  published  in  1900,  which  has  been 
widely  read  and  used  as  a  text-book.  Clarke's  interest  in 
foreign  missions  might  be  said  to  be  an  inheritance,  yet  it 
was  deeply  personal,  unsectarian,  and  practical.  He  had  al- 
ways known  missionaries  and  came  early  to  have  mission- 
aries among  his  friends.  His  residence  in  Newton  enlarged 
the  number  of  these.  Hamilton,  from  the  first,  had  been  a 
training-school  and  home  of  missionaries.    After  he  became  a 


74  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

teacher  of  theology,  and  year  by  year  one  or  more  of  his  stu- 
dents joined  the  army  of  workers  on  the  foreign  field,  his 
knowledge  of  missions  became  even  more  intimate. 

He  felt  the  need  of  a  course  in  comparative  religion  for  all, 
and  especially  for  those  who  were  to  be  missionaries.  His 
work  in  this  department  he  gathered  up  for  his  students  in  a 
typewritten  and  manifolded  monograph,  entitled  "The  Great 
Religions  on  the  Great  Questions."  He  never  planned  to 
publish  this,  yet  it  has  decided  value. 

In  the  summer  of  1900  he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Divinity  from  Yale  University.  From  New  Haven  he 
went  to  Haverford  College  to  give  an  address  at  a  Friends' 
Summer  School  of  Theology. 

For  me,  lameness  and  lack  of  strength  made  journeying 
difficult  and  I  seldom  attended  large  meetings,  but  I  felt  a 
strong  desire  to  go  to  this  one  because  I  had  long  been  aware 
that  my  deepest  beliefs  and  affinities  were  those  of  the  Friends. 
I  went  with  Clarke  to  New  York,  and  while  he  diverged  to 
New  Haven  I  kept  on  to  Philadelphia.  At  Haverford  I  had 
a  new  and  charming  experience  among  the  Friends. 

"What  is  thy  first  name?"  was  asked  at  once  in  the  gentle 
voice  of  one  who  had  kept  the  plain  language  and  the  plain 
garb,  and  the  newcomer,  introduced  as  Emily  Clarke,  was 
addressed  thus  during  her  stay  in  Haverford,  and  quite  fell 
in  love  with  her  own  name  from  hearing  it  so  sweetly  spoken. 
Quite  proudly  she  acted  as  cicerone  for  her  husband  when  he 
appeared  among  strangers  who  were  already  her  friends. 
Among  those  whom  he  knew  were  Doctor  J.  Rendel  Harris 
and  Doctor  Barton.  Among  those  met  for  the  first  time  were 
J.  Wilhelm  Rowntree,  Miss  Irene  Ashby,  the  Cadbury  fam- 
ily, Madame  Nitobe,  the  American  wife  of  that  eminent 
Japanese  scholar  and  educator.  Doctor  Inazo  Nitobe,  several 
of  the  Garrett  family,  and  also  various  members  of  the  facul- 
ties of  Haverford  and  Bryn  Mawr.  There  were  earnest  men 
and  women  from  distant  parts  of  the  country  and  from  near 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  75 

by,  drawn  to  Haverford  upon  a  spiritual  rather  than  an  intel- 
lectual quest.  Not  least  among  the  impressive  experiences 
was  a  Friends'  meeting  at  the  end,  a  silent  waiting  with  pas- 
sive minds  and  receptive  hearts  for  the  breath  of  the  Spirit, 
broken  once  or  twice  by  a  few  words  or  a  prayer,  and  ending 
with  prayer  and  thanksgiving. 

Clarke's  address  on  "The  Work  of  Christ  for  Our  Salva- 
tion," simplicity  and  clearness  itself  in  thought  and  expres- 
sion, was  a  piece  of  work  as  noteworthy  as  anything  he 
ever  produced.  It  was  a  closely  condensed  study  in  church 
history  and  theology.  The  much-mooted  question  as  to  his 
actual  belief  regarding  the  atonement  is  there  plainly  and 
briefly  answered.  For  this  reason  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  it 
has  never  been  published  in  this  country.  It  appeared  in 
Present  Day  Papers,  a  small  periodical,  of  which  J.  Wilhelm 
Rowntree  was  the  editor,  circulating  chiefly  among  English 
Friends. 

This  address,  given  in  the  chapel  of  Haverford  College, 
met  with  a  highly  intelligent  and  cordial  response  from  that 
earnest  audience. 

In  1901  he  gave,  at  Oberlin,  an  address,  entitled  "Hux- 
ley and  Phillips  Brooks,"  which  he  repeated  a  little  later 
before  the  alumni  at  the  university  commencement  at  Ham- 
ilton. It  was  published  in  the  Bihliotheca  Sacra  and  some 
reprints  were  distributed  here  and  there,  but  it  was  never 
widely  known  in  the  United  States,  although  it  made  a  pro- 
found impression  upon  those  who  heard  it  or  read  it.  It  was 
published  in  England  by  Allenson  and  made  an  attractive 
little  book. 

In  the  summer  of  1901  Clarke  received  the  degree  of 
Doctor  of  Divinity  from  the  University  of  Chicago.  In  Au- 
gust we  went  abroad  for  the  first  and  only  time.  We  had 
both  been  for  years  in  precarious  health,  and  would  not  have 
regarded  this  year  of  journeying  as  possible  had  not  my  two 
nieces  been  at  that  time  resident  abroad.     One,  Mrs.  John- 


76  WILLL\M  NEWTON  CLARKE 

ston,  was  the  wife  of  a  Presbyterian  minister  in  Dublin,  the 
other,  Mrs.  George,  was  the  wife  of  a  Scotch  Canadian,  Kv- 
ing  temporarily  in  England. 

The  voyage  on  the  little  old  Germanic,  stanch  still,  de- 
spite several  almost  fatal  mishaps  in  the  past,  was  very  pleas- 
ant. There  was  a  good  deal  of  wind,  but  the  weather  was 
clear  most  of  the  time.  We  were  both  good  sailors  and  did 
not  mind  the  tossing  and  rolling  that  sent  some  of  the  pas- 
sengers to  their  staterooms.  We  were  on  deck  nearly  all  the 
time  and  were  much  the  better  for  those  long  days  in  the 
bracing  sea  air. 

Clarke  kept  a  journal  during  his  stay  abroad,  and  this  is 
the  first  entry. 

"1901,  15  August,  8  P.  M.  Disembarked  from  the  Ger- 
manic, Liverpool  low-lying,  Birkenhead  arched,  with  the 
glow  of  a  lovely  sunset  upon  it.  Off  for  London  at  8.40.  Ar- 
rived at  12.40  A.  M. 

"16.  Euston  Hotel  in  a  room  graced  with  the  English 
air  and  sense  of  comfort.  To  Richmond  with  Grace  (Mrs. 
George)  at  midday.  Drive  across  town,  first  glimpse  of  West- 
minster Abbey  and  the  houses  of  Parliament,  St.  Paul's  cathe- 
dral, and  many  lesser  places  familiar.  Placed  at  Richmond 
in  a  typical  Enghsh  house  with  characteristic  quahty  in 
every  part  and  outlook. 

"  ly.  Two  walks  in  Richmond,  one  through  the  trade 
streets,  and  one  to  the  Terrace  Gardens  which  overlook  the 
Thames,  and  to  the  entrance  of  Richmond  Park,  where  we 
sat  long  and  talked,  watching  the  people.  At  last  a  ramble 
alone  through  lawns  and  alleys.  Quaint  and  characteristic 
scenes  all  day.  English  architecture  and  street  making. 
The  ancient  parish  church  at  Richmond,  part  of  it  four  hun- 
dred years  old,  beside  a  lane.  Queen  EHzabeth's  almshouse 
and  Bishop  Deppo's  almshouse  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
A  dissenting  chapel,  small,  obscure.  The  winding  Thames 
dotted  with  boats  seen  afar  from  the  lovely  terrace  above. 

^^  Sunday,  18.  To  London  for  morning  service  at  St.  Paul's. 
A  noble  and  impressive  place  with  long,  unbroken  \dstas. 
The  service  scarcely  audible  at  all,  the  music  fine.    The  ser- 


I 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  77 

mon  of  Prebendary  Tucker  heard  rather  better,  though  not 
well — an  earnest  sermon  but  in  the  familiar  phrases  and  re- 
mote from  life.  To  the  audience,  largely  of  strangers,  the 
whole  can  have  meant  almost  nothing  beyond  the  form. 
Their  faces  showed  it,  they  could  not  hear,  and  most  of  them 
were  wholly  detached.  Home  to  Richmond  by  bus,  a  long 
and  wearisome  ride  in  the  heat,  yet  interesting  in  many  parts, 
through  streets  and  regions  long  known  by  name. 

^'Monday,  August  19.  Afternoon  at  Westminster  Abbey. 
The  sense  of  ancientness,  the  splendor  of  architecture,  the 
impression  of  vastness,  the  fulness  of  detail,  the  building-in 
of  reverence,  the  feeling  of  association  with  the  noble  army  of 
the  great  and  good  and  useful,  the  innumerable  reminders 
of  past  endeavor  and  struggle  and  of  vanished  forms  and 
practises,  the  ghostly  return  of  life  long  faded.  The  wonder- 
fulness  of  the  existence  of  such  a  building.  We  saw  the 
greater  part  of  the  items  that  are  described,  but  only  in 
rather  hasty  fashion,  but  it  was  unspeakably  uplifting  and 
satisfying. 

"23.  At  Egham,  thirteen  miles  up  the  Thames  near  to 
Windsor,  where  the  F.  family  have  a  house  three  hundred 
years  old  and  perhaps  older,  with  a  typical  English  garden, 
perhaps  as  old  as  the  house.  There  the  free,  cheerful,  hos- 
pitable life  of  an  English  household  into  which  we  have  been 
welcomed  for  the  day.  Afternoon  on  the  Thames — boating 
— quiet  beauty  everywhere.  We  walked  across  the  plain  of 
Runnjrmede,  we  had  tea  in  the  boat  against  Magna  Charta 
Island.  There  stood  an  ancient  fir-tree.  In  the  Fordham 
garden  an  ancient  maple. 

'"An  Englishman's  house  is  his  castle.'  House  walled  in, 
the  beauty  invisible  from  without,  as  far  from  the  outside 
world  as  if  it  were  miles  away." 

Seven  weeks  were  spent  in  Richmond  with  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
George,  and  under  their  guidance  very  much  more  was  seen 
in  London  and  in  the  surrounding  region  than  could  possibly 
have  been  attempted  had  we  been  alone.  There  were  the 
pleasant  house  and  garden  to  return  to,  the  summer-house 
where  tea  was  made  in  pleasant  weather,  and  the  cheerful 
fireside  on  cool  evenings. 


78  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

On  the  2oth  of  September  we  bade  adieu  to  Richmond 
and  went  to  Oxford. 

The  reading  again  of  this  diary  makes  it  difficult  to  write 
briefly  of  the  year  abroad.  Memory  fills  these  brief  daily 
notes  with  visions  of  life  and  color.  How  impossible  to  give 
a  readable  outline  of  the  weeks  in  Oxford,  so  crowded  were 
they  with  vivdd  impressions!  Only  very  sparingly  can  one 
even  quote  from  the  diary,  so  small  a  space  in  the  memorial 
can  be  given  to  his  recreations  in  the  story  of  Dr.  Clarke's 
life.  Yet  no  one  knew  better  how  to  play  than  he,  or  could 
be  a  better  playmate. 

The  charm  of  those  seven  weeks  in  Oxford  can  never  be 
told.    It  may  be  suggested  by  a  few  excerpts  from  the  diary. 

"22.  Sunday.  A  glorious  day  throughout  after  the  rain. 
Morning  services  at  the  church  of  St.  Mary  the  Virgin,  as- 
sociated with  memories  of  Cranmer,  Newman,  and  many 
more.  Service  and  sermon  by  Mr.  Lake,  a  curate  whom  I 
afterward  met  most  pleasantly.  Then  a  walk  with  E.  through 
the  region  above  the  church.  Later  another  walk  with  E. 
through  the  region  below  High  Street  as  far  as  Christ  church 
meadows.  Beauty  beyond  expression  in  the  fine  light  about 
Merton  College  chapel  and  Corpus  Christi,  especially  the 
view  of  Merton  looking  north,  from  the  walk  known  as  the 
grove.  Then  alone  to  the  service  at  five  o'clock  in  the  cathe- 
dral at  Christ  church.  A  little  time  to  look  about  the  place 
which  is  extremely  fine.  Evening  service  with  good  music, 
without  sermon.    A  full,  great  day. 

"  23.  Morning.  Engaged  lodgings  at  98  St.  Aldate's 
Street,  and  afterward  moved  into  them.  Two  large  rooms 
well  furnished,  just  opposite  the  north  of  Christ  church 
buildings  and  Bishop  Randall's  garden,  with  a  clear  view  of 
St.  Mary's  spire  from  the  front  window.  A  little  ramble 
afternoon  with  a  look  in  at  Merton,  seeing  the  fijie  chapel 
and  the  ancient  library." 

Life  at  the  hotel  had  not  been  such  as  we  preferred,  and 
lodgings  in  St.  Freda's  Hall  seemed  almost  homelike.  It  was 
near  enough  for  convenience  to  all  of  the  older  colleges  and 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  79 

churches.  We  went  to  the  market  every  morning — that  won- 
derful Oxford  market — and  our  meals  were  neatly  served  in 
our  own  sitting-room. 

Christ  church  and  Christ  church  meadows  were  so  near 
that  we  soon  knew  them  well.  We  used  to  walk  along  the 
Isis  to  Magdalen,  and  in  those  soft  autumnal  days  the  shad- 
ows and  colors  were  full  of  alluring  mystery.  We  came  to 
know  and  love  the  old  colleges  and  gardens. 

At  Oxford,  Clarke  began  work  upon  The  Christian  Doc- 
trine of  God  in  the  International  Theological  Library  Series. 
He  went  sometimes  into  Doctor  Sanday's  classroom  and  be- 
came acquainted  with  a  few  scholars  in  the  various  colleges. 

An  entry  in  the  diary  notes  the  coming  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
George,  who  spent  a  fortnight  with  us  at  St.  Freda's  Hall. 
They  had  a  tandem-bicycle  and  did  some  exploring  of  the 
region  around  Oxford,  returning  with  reports  of  things  really 
worth  making  an  effort  to  see.  One  evening  they  brought  an 
enthusiastic  account  of  Abingdon,  which  the  uncle  and  aunt 
must  surely  see.  Comfortable,  four-wheeled  vehicles  for  two 
persons  appear  to  be  almost  non-existent  in  England,  but  a 
horse  and  trap  was  engaged,  with  some  misgivings,  and  on 
the  next  morning  we  set  forth,  with  the  young  folks  attending 
on  their  tandem.  Abingdon  was  beautiful,  interesting,  and 
surely  worth  seeing,  but  we  never  wished  to  try  a  trap  again. 

There  were  delightful  rambles  in  and  around  Oxford 
which  the  entries  in  the  diary  recall  vividly.  On  the  20th 
of  October  the  nephew  and  niece  returned  to  London  and 
were  sadly  missed.  The  year  was  waning,  the  weather  grew 
dull,  there  was  less  of  outdoor  life  for  them.  It  was  time  to 
be  turning  southward. 

Clarke  did  some  work  upon  the  book,  but  the  beauty 
and  inexhaustible  interest  of  Oxford  so  dominated  his  mind 
that  writing  was  difficult,  and  he  gave  it  up. 

A  visit  to  Cambridge  had  been  planned,  but  the  fogs  and 
the  chill  led  us  to  defer  it.    Upon  the  7  th  of  November  we 


So  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

returned  to  London,  where  Mr,  and  Mrs.  George  were  now 
established  for  the  winter,  and  were  with  them  in  Kensing- 
ton. My  sister,  who  had  been  \asiting  our  niece  in  Dublin, 
was  also  there,  and  she  was  our  travelling  companion  on  the 
Continent. 

On  the  1 6th  we  crossed  the  Channel  to  Calais  and  ar- 
rived in  Paris  the  same  evening,  going  directly  to  a  pension, 
not  far  from  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  where  rooms  had  been 
engaged  for  us  by  Richard  Atwater,  a  Quaker  cousin  of 
Clarke,  who  with  his  family  lived  near  by.  The  Atwater 
home  was  genial  and  attractive  and  the  young  people,  who 
were  students  at  the  Sorbonne,  were  no  less  kind  and  helpful 
than  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Atwater  to  this  party  of  three  semi-in- 
valids, at  whose  service  the  whole  family  placed  their  knowl- 
edge of  Paris,  and  thus  enabled  us  to  see  and  do  much  that 
would  otherwise  have  been  impossible. 

A  former  college  student  at  Hamilton,  Mr.  Clarence 
Butler,  an  artist  then  resident  in  Paris,  came  at  once  with 
his  wife  to  greet  us  with  offers  of  all  possible  aid.  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  George  came  to  Paris  for  the  holiday  season,  and  thus  we 
were  surrounded  with  affectionate  care  during  our  entire  stay. 

Upon  the  morning  of  January  2  our  nephew  and  niece 
accompanied  us  to  the  Gare  de  Lyon  and  sped  us  on  our 
southward  way.  We  had  been  ambitious  as  to  our  itinerary 
and  had  meant  to  stop  at  Aries  and  at  Carcassonne,  but  our 
courage  waned  under  the  weariness  of  a  long  journey  and  we 
saw  not  Aries  nor  Carcassonne  but  kept  tamely  on  to  Avi- 
gnon, which  was  indeed  well  worth  the  seeing.  From  Avignon 
we  went  to  Marseilles  on  the  evening  of  the  4th  and  upon  the 
5th  saw  the  first  inspiring  view  of  the  Mediterranean.  Upon 
the  6th  we  were  off  for  Hyeres.  It  was  a  radiant  day,  and 
Clarke  gives  in  the  diary  a  page  of  vivid  description  to  the 
journey.  At  Hyeres  we  settled  down  for  a  restful  stay  at  the 
Hotel  des  Isles  d'Or,  in  a  room  looking  straight  to  the  sea  and 
the  Golden  Islands.     The  repute  of  Hyeres  as  having  the 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  8i 

mildest  climate  of  any  resort  along  the  Riviera,  a  melange  of 
romantic  history  and  legendary  lore  absorbed  in  early  youth 
by  one  of  the  party,  together  with  interest  in  the  recent 
achievements  of  the  Felibres,  had  led  us  to  Hyeres,  and  we 
were  richly  repaid.  One  is  tempted  to  give  a  page  or  two 
from  the  diary. 

"January  7.  Another  glorious  day  after  a  cool  and  bril- 
liant night.  A  great  day  for  walking  for  us.  Morning  through 
the  old  town  of  Hyeres  on  the  steep  hillside.  A  mediaeval 
town  evidently  altered  not  very  much  for  ages:  steep,  nar- 
row streets,  ancient  dark  houses  now  but  thinly  peopled, 
but  all  cleanness  itself  in  comparison  with  Marseilles  and 
Avignon.  Prominent  on  the  slope  is  the  St.  Paul  church 
of  the  twelfth  century.  It  stands  high  up  from  the  land  be- 
low with  a  square  tower,  and  on  the  top  is  an  open,  iron  frame. 
Beside  it  is  an  open  place  from  which  there  is  a  fine  outlook. 
Here,  too,  is  the  ancient  iron  cross,  the  story  of  which  is  given 
in  a  book  by  Anna  Mary  Howitt — her  ancient  legend  tells, 
but  whether  history  knows  I  am  not  sure.  The  inscription 
says  it  was  erected  by  the  magistrates  of  the  first  city  of  the 
Isles  of  Gold.  Then  we  climbed  a  little  farther  up  the  hill 
and  came  home  by  another  way.  After  luncheon  we  went 
out  again.  The  back  ground  of  Hyeres  is  a  hill,  said  to  rise 
eight  hundred  and  seventy  feet,  steep,  splendidly  rocky, 
crowned  by  remains  of  ancient  fortifications.  We  started 
without  definite  purpose,  but  finally  made  our  way  by  road 
and  path  around  the  hill,  our  way  near  the  top  skirting  the 
way  of  the  old  defenses.  Part  of  the  way  it  was  a  climb  over 
stony  paths.  Splendid  outlooks  all  along  upon  plain  and  sea 
and  rocky  hills,  the  clear  air  beautifying  all.  There  is  a 
fine  round  tower  built  out  of  a  rock,  and  there  are  several 
square  towers,  less  well-preserved  but  rising  finely.  The 
hill  is  partly  wooded  and  the  lovely  foliage  contrasts  beauti- 
fully with  the  rocks.  There  is  a  way  within  the  ruins,  but 
we  were  content  with  our  labors  and  did  not  undertake  that. 
It  was  a  charming  walk,  one  of  the  finest  that  we  have  ever 
made  together  and  the  hardest  that  we  have  had  since  the 
days  of  our  lameness;  not  so  very  long  in  measurement,  but 
a  real  walk  for  travellers." 


82  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

In  the  vicinity  of  Hyeres  we  saw  for  the  first  time  large  fields 
of  narcissus,  violets,  and  other  spring  flowers,  grown  for  the 
Paris  and  London  flower  markets.  One  day  we  came  upon 
an  old-fashioned  pottery  where  two  men  were  busy,  one  shap- 
ing flower-pots  rapidly  upon  a  wheel  kept  in  motion  by  one 
foot  while  both  hands  were  busy  in  modeUing  the  clay.  We 
fell  into  conversation  with  the  man  at  the  wheel  and  he,  see- 
ing that  we  were  genuinely  interested,  shaped  a  vase  or  two 
in  graceful  classic  forms  which  showed  an  innate  sense  of 
beauty,  together  with  traditions  derived  from  Greek  art. 
Then  we  remembered  that  all  along  the  Riviera  there  had 
existed  Greek  colonies  in  early  times,  and  that  many  of  the 
people  must  be  of  Greek  descent,  as  indeed,  their  faces  indi- 
cated. 

Flowers,  and  oranges,  chiefly  tangerines,  fresh  from  the 
trees,  were  brought  to  the  hotel  every  morning,  and  the 
bright  air,  the  deep  blue  sky,  the  sea  and  the  rocky  heights 
were  all  suggestive  of  the  only  other  southern  climate  we 
knew,  California,  but  how  unlike  were  the  associations! 
Entry  in  the  diary  of  January  lo  closes  thus: 

"Last  night  and  to-day  writing  was  resumed,  first  since 
leaving  Oxford.  As  to  the  history  of  Hyeres,  it  is  said  that  a 
Roman  settlement  here  bore  the  name  of  Castrum  Aracarum. 
Query,  whether  the  name  Hyeres  is  a  corruption  of  this.  It 
looks  likely." 

A  book  of  dear  remembrances  might  easily  be  written 
about  Hyeres,  a  quiet,  gentle,  remarkable  little  town  which 
made  one  desire  to  stay  on  indefinitely  and  learn  to  know 
some  of  the  people  met  day  by  day  in  walking  or  driving,  at 
the  churches  and  the  little  public  library.  In  the  latter  place 
was  shown  with  pride  perhaps  the  most  beautiful  collection 
of  butterflies  in  the  world,  for,  strange  to  say,  Hyeres  seems 
to  possess  a  peculiar  attraction  for  butterflies,  which  find  their 
way  thither  from  many  distant  points  and  are  fated  to  enrich 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  83 

that  rare  collection.  There  was  also  a  collection  of  birds  of 
Provence. 

Again,  more  than  a  page  of  the  diary  is  given  to  the  ac- 
count of  a  second  visit  of  exploration  to  the  alluring  ruin  on 
the  hill  which  proved  to  be  as  interesting  within  as  without. 

Upon  the  21st  we  regretfully  bade  adieu  to  Hyeres  and 
went  to  St.  Raphael  by  the  South  of  France  Railway  which 
follows  the  coast-line  somewhat  closely,  affording  varied  and 
charming  views.  The  journal  depicts  St.  Raphael,  Valeriano, 
and  the  ruins  of  Frejus,  and  a  drive  along  the  shore  where 
lines  of  strong-armed  fishermen  were  drawing  in  their  nets. 

St.  Raphael  was  interesting  but  not  the  place  for  our  party 
to  settle  down  in.  On  the  29  th  we  went  to  Nice,  a  place  too 
well  known  to  linger  upon  here. 

From  Nice  to  Genoa,  and  from  Genoa  to  Pisa.  All  felt 
the  unique  charm  of  Pisa  and  would  willingly  have  stayed 
longer.  From  Pisa  to  Rome,  and  from  Rome  to  Naples,  where 
we  settled  down  placidly  at  Parker's  Hotel  resolved  to  see 
things  in  leisurely  fashion,  even  though  that  should  mean 
seeing  comparatively  little.  After  rain  and  chill  in  Rome 
and  on  the  southward  journey,  the  travellers  awoke  to  bright 
sunshine  in  Naples  and  with  something  of  the  joyousness 
they  had  felt  at  Hyeres.  Seeing  a  little  each  day,  in  the  end 
we  had  seen  much  without  haste  or  overexertion. 

Clarke  did  a  good  deal  of  walking  alone,  and  the  diary 
shows  how  keenly  alive  to  the  picturesque,  the  comic,  the 
pathetic,  in  the  passing  show,  was  this  sympathetic  looker-on. 

We  had  planned  to  go  to  Sicily,  but  the  time  never  came 
when  all  of  the  three  had  courage  and  enterprise  to  under- 
take the  journey.  We  thought  we  could  go  to  Capri  any 
pleasant  day,  but  we  saw  Capri  only  as  it  appeared,  ever  al- 
luring, in  the  glamour  of  distance.  We  went  to  La  Cava  in- 
tending to  take  the  trip  to  Paestum,  but  at  La  Cava  we  learned 
how  much  of  effort  and  fatigue  that  journey  would  entail, 
and  so  we  gave  up  Paestum.     From  La  Cava  we  made  the 


84  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

carriage  journey  to  Amalfi  upon  a  heavenly  day  when  sky 
and  sea  were  at  their  bluest  and  the  mountain  cascades,  leap- 
ing down  the  gorges,  were  at  their  fullest  and  brightest.  The 
glory  and  the  joy  of  that  journey  were  too  wonderful  for 
words.  We  stayed  at  the  old  monastery  and  felt  all  the  charm 
of  the  place,  so  well  known,  so  often  described.  We  had  little 
rooms  that  had  been  cells  of  monks  and  sat  beneath  the  star- 
lit sky  in  a  balcony  far  above  the  sea  with  the  white  town 
gleaming  dimly  in  the  distance  and  the  sea  murmuring  softly 
below.    It  was  like  an  idyllic  dream. 

The  drive  from  Amalfi  to  Sorrento  was  beautiful,  the  stay 
in  Sorrento  full  of  interest,  and  the  drive  to  Castellammare 
a  new  delight. 

After  seven  weeks  in  Naples  our  party  turned  northward 
upon  a  summer-like  day  when  all  was  beautiful. 

"The  mountain  scenery,  the  abbey  upon  Monte  Cassino, 
Aquino,  the  home  of  Thomas,  a  beautifully  placed  town  on  a 
rounded  hill,  many  other  towns  picturesquely  situated. 
Ruined  castles  appeared  on  the  heights  here  and  there.  It 
was  a  most  lovely  journey  and  we  grudged  the  latter  part  of 
it  to  the  night.  Very  different  from  the  going  to  Naples  in 
the  rain." 

We  reached  Rome  on  the  13th,  and  the  entries  in  the  diary 
recall  clearly  all  that  filled  the  days  between  the  13  th  and 
the  26th. 

Rome  is  so  vast,  so  varied,  so  overpowering  that  the  mem- 
ory of  it  is  chaotic  and  wearying,  but  the  clear,  well-arranged 
account  of  each  day's  doings,  given  in  the  diary,  is  pleasant 
reading. 

"The  most  interesting  object  noted  on  the  way  to  Flor- 
ence is  *Orvieto,  a  great  natural  fortress,  picturesque  and 
beautiful.'  The  first  hotel,  though  it  faces  the  Amo,  is  not 
right,  but  the  party  soon  found  out  the  Villa  Trollope  which 
suits  better." 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  85 

From  our  front  window  we  look  out  into  a  walled  garden 
opposite,  where  nightingales  sing,  and  up  the  street,  to  Fie- 
sole.  Florence  is  restful  after  Rome,  the  weather  is  spring- 
like and  we  go  about  freely.  The  Villa  Trollope  was  once  the 
home  of  the  Trollope  family,  and  the  room  is  shown  in  which 
George  EKot  wrote  Romola.  It  is  a  cheerful  house  in  a  pleas- 
ant, airy  situation  that  seems  healthful.  We  take  life  easily 
and  see  a  great  deal. 

From  Florence  to  Venice  and  thence  to  Milan  and  on  to 
Lucerne,  to  Heidelberg  and  down  the  Rhine,  to  Brussels  and 
Ostend  and  across  to  England,  through  the  fields  of  Kent, 
green  and  blossoming,  to  London,  to  Manchester  to  see 
Doctor  Maclaren,  to  Cambridge,  where  we  had  glimpses  of 
certain  colleges  and  were  under  the  delightful  tutelage  of 
Doctor  J.  Rendel  Harris,  across  the  fen  country,  on  a  misty, 
glimmering  day,  where  we  seemed  to  be  pursuing  the  wraith 
of  Hereward,  to  Ely,  which  gave  us  wonderful  things  to 
remember!  To  Dublin,  the  home  of  our  niece,  where  we 
spent  a  fortnight  full  of  interest  and  charm,  then  to  Belfast 
for  Glasgow.  We  had  a  long-cherished  dream  of  seeing 
lona,  but  in  Glasgow  it  rained  as  if  it  would  rain  forever. 
Columba's  Isle  remained  unvisited,  and  through  the  dimness 
of  pouring  rain  we  sped  on  to  Edinburgh,  where  the  sky 
cleared  and  we  saw  much.  From  Edinburgh,  southward 
through  green  hills  dotted  with  flocks,  to  the  Lake  country, 
a  little  stay  at  Windermere,  a  few  hours  at  Grasmere,  to 
Chester,  to  Liverpool,  and  then  the  homeward  voyage. 

In  June,  1902,  Clarke  was  again  in  his  own  home  on 
the  college  hill.  The  trip  abroad,  although  it  had  been  for 
the  most  part  without  hurry  or  excessive  fatigue,  and  had 
been  a  mentally  enriching  experience,  had  not  improved  his 
health,  and  while  devoting  himself  as  fully  as  ever  to  his  work 
in  theology  he  declined  the  many  invitations  that  he  received 
to  give  addresses,  to  preach,  or  to  aid  in  summer  schools. 
The  seminary,  the  church,  the  village  which  had  been  the 


86  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

scene  of  his  happiest  pastorate — to  these  he  still  gave  himself 
freely.  The  Christian  Doctrine  oj  God,  which  would  require 
the  utmost  exercise  of  his  mature  powers,  was  yet  to  be  writ- 
ten. The  beginning  made  at  Oxford,  and  some  further  work 
done  at  odd  times  while  he  was  abroad,  did  not  satisfy  him. 
He  threw  it  aside  and  began  anew,  using  a  different  method. 
This  book  was  always  in  mind  and  he  worked  upon  it  from 
time  to  time  as  he  was  able.  It  was  a  gradual  growth.  He 
had  little  strength  and  looked  so  ill  that  his  friends  were 
shocked  and  alarmed,  but  he  made  light  of  his  disabilities, 
remaining  at  home  through  the  bitter  winters  of  1902  and 
1903.  In  1903  he  began  to  rally  and  to  look  like  his  old  self. 
Even  during  those  difficult  years  no  one — not  even  those 
nearest  to  him,  ever  heard  him  complain  of  overwork.  His 
active  mind  supplied  energy  for  his  frail  body  and  kept  him 
up.  The  only  pieces  of  outside  work,  of  especial  interest, 
dated  in  1903,  are  two  addresses,  one  given  before  the  Mis- 
sionary Society  of  Andover  Theological  Seminary,  called 
**The  Young  Minister's  Outlook,"  and  the  Dudleian  lecture 
at  Harvard  University  given  in  the  Phillips  Brooks  House, 
of  which  the  subject  is  always  "Revealed  Religion." 

The  two  long  winters  at  home  in  a  severe  climate,  which 
kept  me  a  house  prisoner,  prevented  Clarke  from  taking  the 
open-air  exercise  that  he  needed,  as  his  lameness  made  him 
Hable  to  slip  and  fall  whenever  the  ground  was  icy.  It 
was  certain  that  we  must  seek  a  milder  region  for  the  win- 
ter of  1904.  We  fixed  upon  Pinebluflf,  a  small,  quiet  place, 
near  Pinehurst,  North  Carolina,  which  we  already  knew. 
Clarke  had  engaged  to  give  a  course  of  lectures  before  the 
Divinity  School  of  Yale  University,  in  April,  1905,  and  he 
wished  to  be  able  to  work  without  interruption.  My  nephew 
with  his  wife  and  little  daughter  were  already  there,  and 
Clarke  took  the  cottage  next  to  theirs,  so  we  had  beside 
us  young  kinsfolk  and  helpers,  and  life  in  both  cottages 
was  thus  made  easier  and  happier.     The  winter  was  excep- 


THE   YEARS   AT  HAMILTON  87 

tionally  cold,  there  were  several  slight  snowfalls  and  one 
snow-storm  followed  by  rain  and  freezing  which  made  the 
streets  so  icy  that  for  several  days  Clarke  did  not  venture 
out.  Yet  we  were  in  the  mild,  middle  South,  and  the  sandy 
soil  was  dry  and  warm  beneath  our  feet  nearly  all  the  time. 
For  the  most  part  we  lived  wdth  open  doors  and  windows, 
and  our  cottage  had  a  little  porch  where  we  could  sit  in  the 
sun  or  in  the  shade.  In  and  around  Pinebluff  there  were 
pleasant  walks,  there  were  fine,  vigorous  young  pines  to  look 
at,  and  old,  gnarled,  picturesque  ones,  and  although  the  cot- 
tage was  primitive  and  inconvenient  and  the  household  ser- 
vice poor  and  uncertain,  the  climate  seemed  to  be  good  for 
all  and  we  grew  stronger  from  week  to  week. 

The  lectures  for  Yale  were  written  easily — spun  wholly 
from  inward  resources.  Clarke  had  with  him  almost  no 
books  except  the  Bible  and  the  Greek  Testament,  and  he 
needed  nothing  else.  These  lectures  on  "The  Use  of  the 
Scriptures  in  Theology"  made  a  small  book  which  appeared 
soon  after  they  were  given.  In  The  Modern  Pulpit,  by  Doc- 
tor Lewis  O.  Brastow,  of  the  Yale  Divinity  School,  pub- 
lished in  1906,  the  author  gives  his  impressions  of  Doctor 
Clarke.  After  commending  the  Outline  of  Christian  Theology 
he  goes  on  to  say:  "His  Use  of  the  Scriptures  in  Theology  is 
even  more  valuable,  if  possible,  to  ministers  and  laymen 
alike.  It  is  a  greatly  needed  and  most  valuable  contribution 
to  a  difficult  and  supremely  important  subject,  and  in  its 
skill  and  courage  is  successful  to  a  degree  that  seemingly 
would  have  been  impossible  to  any  other  theological  teacher 
in  the  country." 

Of  Clarke  as  teacher  and  preacher  he  says: 

"One  of  the  most  successful  teachers  of  doctrinal  theol- 
ogy in  this  country  is  the  Reverend  Professor  William  N. 
Clarke,  D.D.  But  the  preacher  is  behind  the  lecturer.  No 
intelHgent  person  can  have  listened  to  his  lectures  without 
recognizing  this.     Those  twenty-three  years  of  pastoral  ex- 


88  WILLIAM   NEWTON  CLARKE 

perience,  chiefly  in  exceptionally  intelligent  communities  in 
the  United  States,  have  been  richly  tributary  to  his  work  as 
teacher  of  doctrinal  theology.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  equally 
evident  to  those  who  have  heard  him  preach  as  well  as  lec- 
ture that  his  preaching  is  proportionally  tributary  to  his 
teaching.  His  power  of  lucid  statement,  his  skill  in  repre- 
senting occult  theologic  thought  in  readily  apprehensible 
terms,  and  his  straightforvvardness  and  courageous  sincerity 
are  qualities  that  are  prominent  in  this  most  interesting  and 
convincing  of  theological  teachers  in  our  day. 

"All  those  qualities  that  have  given  him  eminence  as  a 
teacher  he  carries  into  the  pulpit,  and  he  is  not  less  inter- 
esting and  successful  as  a  preacher.  His  discourses  are  al- 
ways thoughtful,  frequently  striking,  and  fresh  in  sugges- 
tiveness,  readily  apprehended,  orderly  in  method,  practical 
in  aim,  and  pungent  and  direct  in  statement.  They  have  the 
carrying  power  of  the  preacher's  sincerity,  fearlessness,  and 
frankness.  In  a  straightforward,  colloquial,  unimpassioned, 
prevailingly  reflective,  serious,  and  sincere  manner,  wholly 
without  oratorical  arts  or  affectations  of  oratorical  style,  he 
speaks  straight  on." 

Clarke  had  preached  in  the  university  chapel  at  Yale, 
and  Brastow  had  no  doubt  heard  him  elsewhere,  but  if  he 
had  listened  to  one  of  his  sermons  at  Hamilton  or  to  such 
preaching  as  he  gave  in  the  little  church  at  Pineblufif,  or 
wherever  his  help  was  needed,  he  would  have  omitted  that 
word  "unimpassioned."  A  constant  characteristic  of  his  ser- 
mons in  places  where  he  felt  at  home  and  knew  his  audience 
was  the  glow  of  feeling  which  pervaded  them.  His  sermons 
were  alive  with  strong  and  noble  thought  and  often  rushed 
swiftly  forward  in  "impassioned  and  passion-moving  utter- 
ance"— to  use  one  of  his  own  rich  phrases.  He  knew  the 
heights  and  depths  of  emotion,  and  sudden  raptures  of  illu- 
mination, of  the  great  preacher. 

The  teacher  did  not  forget  his  students  after  they  had 
gone  out  into  the  world.  He  knew  where  each  one  was  and 
wished  to  know  what  he  was  doing.    In  September,  1905,  he 


THE   YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  89 

sent  out  the  following  letter,  and  few  things  ever  gave  him 
more  pleasure  than  the  answers  he  received  from  far  and  near. 

"Dear  Pupil  and  Friend: 

"Forgive  me  for  sending  you  a  printed  letter.  My  excuse 
is  that  I  am  seeking  information  from  my  students  gener- 
ally, and  have  neither  strength  nor  time  for  the  personal 
letter  that  I  should  so  gladly  write  to  each. 

"I  should  be  glad  to  know  your  judgment  as  to  some  of 
the  conditions  in  which  religious  work  is  done  at  present. 
Do  you  find  reUgious  interest  among  the  people?  If  so,  of 
what  kind  is  it  ?  In  what  parts  or  aspects  of  Christian  truth 
are  the  best  people  in  the  church  interested  ?  Is  there  a  high 
sense  of  the  glory  of  the  Christian  faith  and  Hfe?  Are  the 
people  outside  the  churches  thinking  of  reUgious  subjects? 
and  if  they  are,  of  what?  Do  you  meet  many  persons,  or 
any,  to  whom  any  religious  or  theological  questions  are  of 
absorbing  interest?  Do  you  find  religious  consolation  sought 
and  welcomed  in  time  of  trouble?  Do  you  find  the  ethical 
questions  of  Hfe  brought  into  connection  with  religion?  Are 
struggles  of  conscience  frequent?  Do  you  see  in  the  young 
people  a  religious  interest  that  gives  promise  of  strength  in 
the  church  hereafter?  Is  the  best  and  most  religious  work 
that  you  can  do  reasonably  welcome  in  the  church  and  in  the 
community?  Do  you  discover  any  new  forms  of  reHgious 
interest,  or  manifestations  of  reHgious  activity?  Do  you 
observe  any  growth  of  Christian  principle  or  Hfe  outside  of 
the  church  ? 

"Not  that  I  wish  to  catechise  you  on  all  these  points: 
these  questions  indicate  the  field  in  which  I  desire  informa- 
tion, and  anything  that  your  experience  may  lead  you  to 
write  me,  at  your  convenience,  upon  any  of  them  will  be  wel- 
come to  an  old  friend,  who  is  less  in  touch  than  you  with  the 
active  world. 

"With  a  greeting  as  cordial  as  if  it  were  written  with  my 
own  hand  or  uttered  face  to  face,  I  am, 

"Sincerely  yours, 

"Hamilton,  N.  Y.,  September,  1905." 

By  an  exchange  of  time  with  a  colleague  Doctor  Clarke 
was  enabled  for  several  years  to  compress  his  work  in  theol- 


90  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

ogy  and  his  electives  within  the  limits  of  the  spring  and  faU 
terms.  He  made  few  journeys  except  to  and  from  the  South, 
and  was  content  to  spend  the  summer  vacations  chiefly  at 
home.  His  house  on  the  college  hill  looked  out  upon  a  broad 
view  over  the  valley,  of  which  he  never  tired.  A  visit  of  a 
few  days  was  made  now  and  then  at  the  home  of  his  sister, 
in  Cazenovia,  where  some  old  friends  still  remained,  or  at  my 
native  place  in  Pennsylvania,  and  sometimes  we  went  to 
Boston,  but  both  were  for  the  most  part  kept  at  home  by 
lameness  and  lack  of  strength.  Our  chief  recreation,  as  in 
youth,  so  in  those  years  of  decline,  was  found  in  driving,  es- 
pecially along  the  less-frequented  roads.  When  we  struck 
into  one  of  the  shady  bypaths,  often  Clarke  would  uncover 
his  head  with  a  joyous  abandon,  as  if  surrendering  his  whole 
being  to  earth,  air,  and  sky.  No  one  ever  felt  a  more  spon- 
taneous and  full  delight  in  nature.  He  was  not  precisely 
far-sighted,  but  he  had  excellent  normal  vision.  Through 
all  his  life  he  had  been  garnering  "the  harvest  of  a  quiet  eye." 
The  flight  of  a  bobolink  over  a  June  meadow  and  its  ecstatic 
song,  the  grace  of  an  elm  beside  a  stream,  a  clump  of  elder  in 
its  milk-white  bloom,  a  tall  mullein  by  the  roadside — these 
familiar  things  never  lost  their  charm.  There  were  places 
where  we  always  stopped.  One  was  a  bridge  over  the  little 
river  near  Poolville,  which  gave  enchanting  views,  up-stream 
and  down.  There  was  another  bridge  over  the  outlet  of  a 
clear,  spring-fed  pond  from  which  comes  Hamilton's  bountiful 
supply  of  water.  Upon  one  side  of  the  way  was  a  remnant 
of  woodland,  the  refuge  of  many  birds.  Upon  the  other  one 
could  look  down  into  the  bright  stream  and  follow  its  course 
a  little  way.  The  chief  charm  of  this  stream  was  its  melo- 
diousness. We  could  have  lingered  there  for  hours  to  listen. 
Sometimes  we  tried  to  discover  which  tiny  waterfall,  or  ob- 
structing stone,  or  curve  in  the  brook  making  an  eddy  gave 
voice  to  some  distinguishable  note  among  the  "little  sharps 
and  trebles"  or  silvery  trills  against  the  background  of  soft 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  91 

murmuring.  After  our  return  from  the  South  each  year  we 
would  wait  and  watch  for  that  day  in  May  that  was  perfect 
for  an  "apple-blossom  drive"  over  the  hills  and  among  old 
orchards.  There  was  another  much-loved  drive  in  early 
autumn  toward  Eaton,  past  the  site  of  Underbill  Cottage  the 
childhood  home  of  Fanny  Forrester,  whose  early  writings 
charmed  the  grandparents  of  some  of  the  young  folks  of  to- 
day. Near  that  point  is  a  broad,  meadowy  lowland,  with 
goldenrod,  asters,  and  Joe  Pye  weed.  Our  wedding-day, 
September  i,  we  used  to  celebrate  by  a  drive  if  sky  and  air 
were  propitious. 

About  the  middle  of  September  the  seminary  opened, 
and  from  that  time  until  the  midwinter  vacation  Clarke 
was  steadily  at  work  and  using  his  strength  to  its  utmost 
limit.  Indoor  life  and  winter  cold  had  told  upon  the  health 
of  both,  and  we  decided  to  go  to  a  really  warm  climate. 
At  the  beginning  of  1906  we  were  in  Florida.  In  furnished 
rooms  where  something  of  home  Ufe  was  possible,  we  kept 
house  in  a  small  way.  Charmed  by  the  mild  and  deUghtful 
climate,  we  thought  it  best  to  end  uncertainty  and  make  a 
winter  home  in  De  Land.  Without  much  ado  we  purchased 
a  lot  on  the  Boulevard,  north  of  the  college,  and  arranged 
for  the  building  of  a  small  house  during  the  summer. 

We  were  at  home  for  the  opening  of  the  spring  term,  and 
the  summer  and  autumn  passed  in  the  usual  quiet  way.  Our 
chief  excitement  had  been  directing,  from  afar,  the  building 
of  the  Florida  house,  which  was  yet  not  ready  to  be  occupied 
when  we  reached  De  Land,  about  the  beginning  of  1907. 
Waiting  only  for  the  most  necessary  rooms  to  be  habitable, 
we  took  possession  at  the  earliest  day,  hoping  to  hasten  the 
completion  of  the  whole,  and  this  plan  proved  efifective.  The 
winter  was  so  warm  and  bright,  most  of  the  time,  that  we 
might  almost  have  lived  in  a  tent,  and  our  picnicky  style  of 
housekeeping  during  the  few  weeks  that  it  was  necessary 
was  not  unpleasant.    Stimulated  by  the  presence  and  over- 


92  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

sight  of  the  owners,  the  builder  spurred  his  workmen  on,  and 
at  last  we  found  ourselves  in  full  possession  of  our  little  home 
which  we  had  planned  ourselves.  It  faced  the  east,  and  its 
longest  extension  was  on  the  south  side.  It  had  a  double 
veranda  across  the  front,  and  the  upper  one  proved  the  most 
delightful  feature  of  the  house.  For  the  rest,  all  was  con- 
venient, cheerful,  and  homelike.  When  it  was  time  to  go 
North  we  felt  thankful  in  the  prospect  of  returning,  year  by 
year,  to  our  own  abode. 

But  before  our  return  to  the  North,  Clarke,  whose  serious 
lameness  had  given  him  many  a  fall,  was  injured  again  by 
a  fall,  occasioned  by  the  thoughtlessness  of  a  workman  in 
leaving  an  obstacle  where  it  was  sure  to  be  stumbled  over. 
His  already  disabled  right  arm  bore  the  brunt  of  the  blow 
and  was  again  broken  and  bruised  in  such  a  way  as  to  cause 
a  partial  paralysis  of  the  forearm  and  hand.  He  rallied  he- 
roically and  in  a  few  days  was  writing  cheerful  letters  with  his 
left  hand.  A  month  later  we  made  the  homeward  journey. 
Under  skilful  treatment  the  injured  arm  slowly  improved,  the 
severed  nerve  repaired  itself,  and  the  paralyzed  muscles  grad- 
ually came  to  Hfe,  yet  the  right  arm  and  hand  were  never 
quite  as  useful  as  before  this  second  injury. 

Another  quiet  summer  passed  with  much  of  happiness  in 
fruitful  work,  the  society  of  friends,  and  the  never-failing  joy 
in  natural  things  which  the  home  on  the  hill,  with  each  win- 
dow looking  out  upon  some  beautiful  object,  made  possible 
at  every  moment  in  the  day.  The  most  satisfying  thing  upon 
which  the  eyes  could  rest,  except  the  view  up  the  valley,  was 
a  large  elm  upon  the  green  slope  of  the  president's  lawn,  just 
far  enough  away  to  show  in  full  perfection  against  its  back- 
ground of  turf  and  sky.  A  more  graceful  tree  never  grew.  It 
was  a  joy  forever,  changing  with  the  changing  mood  of  wind 
and  sky  and  the  round  of  the  year,  yet  keeping  always  its  in- 
dividual loveliness.  Its  serene  charm  seemed  in  natural  affin- 
ity with  the  serene  soul  that  lived  in  its  presence  year  after 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  93 

year  and  who  cared  now  for  no  more  active  vacation  than  his 
veranda  and  an  occasional  drive  could  give. 

In  the  autumn  Clarke  had  a  sudden  and  alarming  illness 
and  it  seemed  as  if  his  work  had  come  to  an  end,  but  his 
great  reserve  of  recuperative  power  brought  him  up,  and  he 
was  able  to  go  to  Florida  when  the  time  came.  His  sister, 
Mrs.  Goff,  always  brave  and  cheerful,  accompanied  us,  and 
remained  during  the  winter.  Life  in  a  mild  climate  very 
soon  brought  Clarke  back  to  sufficient  strength  to  resume 
his  ordinary  life  except  that  he  was  forbidden  to  preach  or 
speak  at  all  in  public.  He  worked,  however,  upon  The  Chris- 
tian Doctrine  of  God  and  upon  an  elective  course  which  he 
was  to  give  his  students  during  the  spring  term,  walked  each 
day  as  usual,  and  now  and  then  took  the  family  for  a  drive 
among  the  orange-groves  and  the  pines. 

One  of  his  great  resources  in  De  Land  was  the  library  of 
Stetson  University  which  he  passed  daily.  It  had  some  of 
the  best  periodicals,  and  its  reference  department  was  good. 
He  looked  in  at  the  hbrary  nearly  every  day  and  was  always 
welcome. 

We  had  neighbors  now  in  a  new  house  a  little  farther 
north,  which  had  been  built  for  Mrs.  Hyde  who  lived  there 
with  her  daughters.  Miss  Hyde  and  Mrs.  Peek,  and  her 
grandson,  Medwin  Peek.  Mrs.  Hyde  was  a  sister-in-law  of 
Doctor  Ammi  Hyde,  the  loved  and  revered  teacher  of  Clarke 
when  he  was  a  boy  in  Cazenovia.  This  fact  had  led  to  a 
pleasant  acquaintance  and  then  to  a  cordial  friendship  be- 
tween the  families  now  living  side  by  side.  With  Professor 
Frost,  a  kind  friend,  on  the  south  side  and  the  Hyde  family 
on  the  north,  the  dwellers  in  the  cottage  between  felt  finely 
supported. 

There  were  other  neighbors  and  friends,  loyal  and  dear, 
at  the  university  and  scattered  through  the  town.  These 
friends  at  the  time  of  direst  need  sprang  with  instant  sym- 
pathy and  personal  grief  to  the  aid  of  the  one  who  was 


94  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

suddenly  left  alone,  and  did  everything  when  she  could  do 
nothing. 

The  winter  of  1907-8  passed  very  quietly.  Upon  his  re- 
turn home  Clarke  found  himself  stronger  and  he  did  his  full 
amount  of  work  during  the  spring  term.  Yet  he  had  warn- 
ings that  he  must  either  do  less  or  cease  altogether  from  work, 
and  at  the  meeting  of  the  trustees  of  Colgate  University  at 
commencement  he  offered  his  resignation  from  the  chair  of 
theology.  It  was  accepted  and  another  position  was  created 
for  him  and  offered  with  the  understanding  that  he  should 
attempt  only  as  much  work  as  he  felt  fully  able  to  do.  It 
was,  in  effect,  a  kindly  retiring  of  the  veteran  upon  half  pay. 

The  summer  of  1908  was  a  trying  time,  as  we  were  both  ill, 
week  after  week,  until  the  weeks  grew  into  months.  The  strug- 
gle of  both  at  the  same  time  with  serious  illness  would  have 
been  utterly  depressing  but  for  Clarke's  cheerful  nature  and 
unfailing  trust  in  God.  Eternal  things  were  more  real  to  him 
than  the  things  of  time.  Those  hard  weeks  and  months  were 
lived  through,  and  in  December  we  were  again  in  De  Land. 

There,  at  last,  Clarke  finished  The  Christian  Doctrine  of 
God.  He  sent  the  work  for  criticism  to  the  American  editor 
of  the  series  to  which  it  belonged.  The  International  Theo- 
logical Library,  and  received  a  most  appreciative  letter. 
"You  have  written  a  great  and  noble  book,"  wrote  Doctor 
Briggs,  with  other  cordial  expressions.  This  book,  the  ripe 
fruit  of  a  lifetime  of  thought  and  experience,  was  the  cul- 
mination of  Clarke's  work  in  theology.  He  had  feared  at 
times  that  he  should  never  finish  it,  nor  could  he  have  fin- 
ished it  if  he  had  not  resigned  the  chair  of  theology  and 
thus  become  free  to  give  more  time  and  strength  to  this 
large  work.     It  was  published  in  May,  1909. 

This  book  had  overshadowed  and  commanded  him  for 
ten  years,  as  any  great  task  does  for  which  one  has  little 
time.  He  began  at  once  upon  another  book,  which  he  wrote 
con  amore  and  rapidly.     Indeed  he  had  only  to  put  pen  to 


THE   YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  95 

paper  and  let  the  story  flow  which  Hved  so  clearly  in  his 
memory.  Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible  was  written  in  De  Land 
and  appeared  in  September,  1909. 

The  year  1908  was  saddened  for  Clarke  by  the  lingering 
illness  and  death  of  his  friend  of  many  years,  Doctor  George 
E.  Merrill,  who  had  been  president  of  Colgate  University 
since  1899. 

The  president's  house  and  Clarke's  were  separated  only 
by  a  quiet  road  and  two  green  lawns,  and  each  was  wholly 
at  home  on  the  other's  domain.  The  friendship  begun  at 
Newton  Center,  where  Merrill  took  his  course  in  theology, 
had  Uved  through  all  the  intervening  years,  and  during  the 
presidency  of  Doctor  Merrill,  with  their  clo^  association, 
the  relation  between  those  two  pure,  refined,  scholarly  men 
grew  more  intimate  and  dear. 

During  the  winter  of  1909-10  the  quiet  round  of  life  in 
De  Land  went  on  as  usual.  Doctor  Clarke  had  now  as  actual 
duties  only  the  work  for  his  classes  in  ethics  and  apologetics, 
but  he  did  not  cease  to  do  his  utmost  and  his  best.  Into  these 
subjects  he  went  more  deeply.  There  was  taking  form  in  his 
mind  a  book  which  should  embody  the  results  of  his  lifelong 
study  and  practical  application  of  the  ethical  teachings  of 
Jesus,    This  book  was  written  a  year  later. 

The  summer  of  1910  he  spent  quietly  at  home,  except  for 
one  brief  journey.  He  was  called  to  New  York  to  receive 
the  honorary  degree  of  Doctor  of  Sacred  Theology,  conferred 
upon  him  by  Columbia  University. 

He  had  met  with  another  serious  accident  in  the  spring 
of  19 10,  having  fallen,  in  an  inexplicable  way,  close  beside 
his  own  house  in  De  Land,  and  his  already  badly  crippled  arm 
was  bruised  and  sprained,  though  not  broken.  The  shock 
and  discouragement  of  this  injury  told  upon  him,  although 
he  soon  recovered  from  the  immediate  effect.  His  lameness 
and  his  ill-fated  right  arm  limited  his  activities  far  more  than 
any  one  understood  except  those  who  knew  him  intimately. 


96  WILLIAM   NEWTON  CLARKE 

Even  to  them  he  did  not  talk  of  his  disabilities.  He  was  so 
liable  to  fall  unless  he  watched  his  steps  very  carefully  that 
it  was  not  safe  for  him  to  take  a  journey  alone.  Hamilton 
and  its  environs,  and  chiefly  his  own  study  and  veranda,  held 
him  with  a  short  tether,  yet  he  was  always  cheerful.  His 
daily  trip  to  the  village,  his  books,  his  writing,  his  piano, 
the  visits  of  friends,  the  beautiful  environment  of  his  home 
were  enough.  From  youth  to  age  he  never  knew  what  ennui 
meant.     He  always  felt  that  his  life  was  rich  and  full. 

Even  the  accidents  that  befell  him  seemed  to  make  a 
deeper  impression  upon  his  wife  than  upon  himself,  though 
he  doubtless  had  forebodings  that  he  did  not  express.  She 
came  to  fear  and  even  to  expect  that  one  day  a  fall  would  be 
fatal,  and  this  fear  began  to  seem  almost  like  a  presentiment 
and  really  cast  a  shadow  upon  her  life.  Also,  the  long  jour- 
neys to  and  from  Florida  were  increasingly  wearisome  to  this 
pair  of  invalids  and  we  became  convinced  that  it  would  be 
wise  to  change  our  winter  abode  to  some  place  easily  ac- 
cessible in  the  middle  South,  although  the  thought  of  giving 
up  our  pleasant  little  house  and  leaving  our  friends  in  DeLand 
was  painful  to  us.  We  had  looked  in  vain  at  Augusta  and 
Aiken  for  a  suitable  place,  so  we  resolved  to  try  Columbia, 
South  CaroUna,  where  there  was  a  friend  in  the  person  of 
Doctor  Mitchell  who  was  then  president  of  the  University 
of  South  Carolina.  Perhaps  in  Columbia  we  might  find  what 
we  needed. 

However,  in  December,  1910,  we  went  to  Florida  as  usual. 
During  the  winter  Clarke  gained  slowly  but  surely  in  health 
and  he  ventured  to  preach  two  or  three  times.  He  worked 
steadily  upon  his  book.  The  Ideal  of  Jesus,  and  so  was  happily 
occupied.  We  planned  to  make  a  detour  upon  the  homeward 
journey  and  go  to  Columbia,  but  Clarke  was  slightly  ill  when 
we  nearcd  the  junction  where  we  should  change,  so  it  seemed 
wise  to  go  through  to  New  York. 

All  through  the  summer  of  191 1  Clarke  was  in  somewhat 


THE  YEARS  AT  HAMILTON  97 

better  health  and  went  about  a  little  more  freely.  He 
preached  several  times  in  the  village  churches,  and  at  the 
university  commencement,  when  the  semicentennial  of  his 
class  occurred,  he  gave  the  alumni  address,  in  which  he  de- 
picted the  college  as  it  was  at  his  entrance,  his  classmates, 
the  outlook  of  the  Civil  War,  the  men  who  enhsted,  the 
heroes  who  gave  their  lives,  and  the  spirit  of  college  Hfe  half 
a  century  before.  He  poured  out  his  heart  in  that  vivid,  ten- 
der, sparkling  address,  which  charmed  every  listener.  During 
the  commencement  season  he  seemed  to  have  renewed  his 
youth.  He  was  inexpressibly  happy  to  be  doing  things  once 
more. 

He  was  invited  to  give  an  address  at  the  Divinity  School 
of  Yale  University  in  November,  and  did  so.  The  visit  at 
New  Haven  was  a  fresh  inspiration  to  him. 

A  fortnight  was  spent  with  our  niece  in  Nev/  York,  which 
included  Thanksgiving  and  Doctor  Clarke's  seventieth  birth- 
day, December  2.  A  little  later  we  started  on  our  journey 
southward  and,  according  to  our  plan,  stopped  at  Columbia. 

Doctor  Mitchell  was  our  kind  helper  in  the  search  for  a 
house  and  put  us  in  the  way  of  finding  whatever  might  pos- 
sibly serve  our  purpose,  but  there  was  then  no  small  house 
and  no  apartment  even  that  suited  our  needs.  We  did  not 
despair  but  promised  ourselves  to  look  again  at  Columbia 
upon  our  return  in  the  spring.  We  seemed  destined  to  spend 
another  winter  in  De  Land,  so  thither  we  would  go  and  be 
content. 

After  a  slow,  exhausting  Journey  in  heat  and  dust,  we 
reached  De  Land  upon  the  evening  of  a  summer-like  day. 
The  Uttle  house  had  never  seemed  more  homelike  and  in- 
viting, and  we  were  thankful  and  happy  to  be  safely  there. 

The  next  morning,  eager  to  be  at  work.  Doctor  Clarke 
had  his  typewriter  unpacked  and  placed  upon  its  stand  be- 
side the  study  table,  together  with  a  pile  of  typewritten 
papers  containing  the  work  in  apologetics  which  he  had  given 


98  WILLIAiVI  NEWTON  CLARKE 

to  his  class  during  the  fall  term,  upon  the  general  topic  of 
belief,  beginning  with  its  lowest  forms,  ascending  by  suc- 
cessive steps,  and  culminating  at  the  highest,  wholly  in  the 
spiritual  realm  and  self-evidencing.  A  fruit  of  this  work  had 
been  the  address,  "Immortality  a  Study  of  Belief,"  that  he 
had  recently  given  at  Yale.  He  intended  to  use  this  material 
in  a  book  which  should  be  his  final  work.  He  wrote  almost 
every  morning,  and  being  at  work  made  him  very  happy. 
Several  times  when  his  wife  entered  the  study  he  looked  up  at 
her  wdth  a  joyous  expression  on  his  face,  blended  with  a  half- 
deprecating  amusement  at  his  own  boyish  delight,  and  said: 
"This  is  going  to  be  a  book  by  and  by."  Alas!  that  book 
was  destined  never  to  be. 


THE  LAST  DAY 

Sunday,  January  14,  was  cold  and  clear.  Doctor  Clarke 
did  not  feel  ill  but  he  had  not  quite  his  usual  strength  and  he 
decided  to  remain  at  home.  He  spent  the  morning  quietly 
alone  in  the  study. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bishop,  friends  who  had  lifelong  associa- 
tions with  Hamilton,  and  who  were  near  neighbors  for  the 
winter,  came  to  dine.  Doctor  Clarke  was  cheerful,  as  were 
all  the  little  company  of  four,  at  the  table  and  in  the  study, 
where  they  sat  afterward.  There  was  no  forewarning  that  a 
thunderbolt  from  a  clear  sky  was  to  shatter  that  peaceful 
home  before  the  day  was  spent.  When  the  guests  were  gone 
Clarke  and  his  wife  sat  together,  one  by  the  fireside  and  one 
at  his  writing-table,  conversing  and  reading  a  Httle.  At  that 
serene  hour  it  seemed  as  if  Hfe  might  flow  on  in  the  same  way 
forever,  though  both  were  ill  and  frail  and  there  had  been 
many  a  warning  that  the  time  of  parting  could  not  be  far 
away.  By  and  by  they  heard  the  whistle  of  the  train,  bring- 
ing the  mail  from  the  North,  and  soon  Clarke  started  for  his 
evening  walk  to  the  post-ofl&ce. 

It  began  to  be  chilly  and  the  fire  was  dying,  so  more  wood 
was  added  and  the  room  made  warm  and  bright.  The  wife 
sat  alone  in  the  house,  under  no  shadow  of  dread,  happier 
than  usual,  listening  to  catch  the  first,  faint  tapping  of  a  lame 
man's  cane  upon  the  sidewalk  and  to  hear  it  grow  near  and 
more  distinct.  He  came  in  somewhat  tired,  but  bright,  as 
always,  with  letters  which  he  read  aloud.  There  was  a  little 
talk  suggested  by  the  letters  and  especially  by  one,  which  was 
very  characteristic,  from  Doctor  Crane,  an  old  friend.  Then 
he  asked:  "Would  you  like  to  have  me  read  to  you?"  He 
took  up  the  Life  of  Louis  Pasteur,  a  recent  Christmas  gift. 

99 


loo  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

They  had  been  reading  the  book,  bit  by  bit,  and  had  reached, 
and  read  a  part  of,  the  seventh  chapter,  which  tells  of  the 
crushing  of  France  by  Germany  in  1870,  a  chapter  packed 
full  of  the  endurance,  anguish,  and  despair  of  Pasteur's  heroic 
soul  and  not  to  be  read  without  deep  feeling.  The  reader 
paused  from  time  to  time  at  some  great  point,  or  as  he  was 
checked  by  an  exclamation  from  the  listener.  With  Pasteur 
they  lived  through  that  heartrending  drama  and  when  the 
chapter  ended  the  spell  was  not  broken  at  once. 

Suddenly,  a  little  later,  came  the  stunning  blow.  While 
his  wife  was  absent  from  him  briefly,  Clarke  fell  from  the 
back  veranda.  When  she  returned  and  he  was  not  in  the 
house  she  felt  an  instant  alarm.  She  found  him  lying  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps.  He  spoke  reassuringly  in  a  clear,  strong 
voice,  but  the  shock,  or  some  injury,  proved  fatal  in  a  few 
moments. 

Let  the  story  end  with  the  glorious  hope  expressed  in  his 
own  poem,  dear  to  many  hearts,  in  the  spirit  of  which  he 
had  long  been  living: 

"Gone  they  tell  me  is  youth. 
Gone  is  the  strength  of  my  life; 
Nothing  remains  but  decline, 
Nothing  but  age  and  decay. 

Not  so:  I  am  God's  little  child. 
Only  beginning  to  live. 
Coming  the  days  of  my  prime. 
Coming  the  strength  of  my  life. 
Coming  the  vision  of  God, 
Coming  my  bloom  and  my  power." 

Amen. 


PERSONAL  CHARACTERISTICS 


All  around  him  Patmos  lies 
Who  hath  spirit-gifted  eyes, 
Who  his  happy  sight  can  suit 
To  the  great  and  the  minute; 
Doubt  not  that  he  holds  in  view   . 
A  new  earth  and  heavens  new; 
Doubt  not  but  his  ear  doth  catch 
Strains  nor  voice  nor  reed  can  match. 
Many  a  silver,  sphery  note 
Shall  within  his  hearing  float. 

All  around  him  Patmos  lies 
Who  hath  spirit-gifted  eyes; 
He  need  not  far  remove, 
He  need  not  the  times  reprove, 
Who  would  hold  perpetual  lease 
Of  an  isle  in  seas  of  peace." 

— Edith  M.  Thomas. 

To  those  who  knew  him  in  the  intimacy  of  his  home  it 
seems  strange  that  one  so  spontaneous,  free,  and  natural 
could  ever  need  to  be  explained,  yet  Doctor  Clarke  was  some- 
thing of  a  puzzle  to  various  persons  of  temperament  and 
training  unlike  his  own.  His  close  friends  and  those  of  his 
own  household  understood  that  he  was  what  he  was  and  did 
what  he  did  by  virtue  of  his  innate  gifts.  He  was  born  not 
made. 

While  he  was  an  industrious  worker  all  his  life,  he  was 
never  an  anxious  toiler.  His  mind  was  habitually  alert  and 
active  but  he  could  not  go  beyond  his  physical  limitations. 
When  his  day's  work  was  over  he  slept  like  a  child  and  awoke 
in  the  morning  refreshed  and  ready  to  begin  anew. 

When  in  sincere  humility  he  spoke  of  himself  as  a  "plod- 
der" he  was  sometimes  misunderstood.    At  the  time  when  he 


I02  V/ELLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

entered  the  ministry,  "a  firm  Biblicist"  and  a  young  man  of 
scholarly  tastes  and  aptitudes  with  an  old-fashioned  train- 
ing in  "the  humanities,"  it  seemed  to  him  a  prime  necessity 
to  become  a  good  exegete.  He  spent  so  much  time  over  his 
exegetical  studies,  as  he  narrates  in  Sixty  Years  With  the  Bible, 
that  it  is  not  strange  if  in  his  later  years  it  seemed  to  him  in 
looking  back  that  he  had  spent  the  best  part  of  his  life  in 
close,  plodding  study  of  the  Bible.  To  sit  at  his  table  pon- 
dering and  judging  as  to  the  correct  reading  and  exact  mean- 
ing of  single  texts  and  longer  passages  of  Scripture  was  not 
the  occupation  best  suited  to  his  naturally  constructive, 
swiftly  working  mind.  Yet  he  never  regretted  the  time  spent 
in  exegetical  work.  It  was  important  and  necessary,  and  it 
gave  him  the  best  possible  preparation  for  the  crowning  work 
of  his  Ufe — the  teaching  of  theology. 

There  was  in  him  a  rare  and  happy  blending  of  the  ideal 
and  the  practical.  He  had  also  a  sympathetic  understanding 
of  human  needs  and  the  breadth  and  glory  of  his  horizon  did 
not  prevent  him  from  taking  note  of  important  things  in  the 
immediate  foreground.  It  was  these  qualities  which  enabled 
him  in  his  books,  as  in  his  teaching,  to  hit  the  mark  with  a 
sure  and  easy  hand.  His  aim  was  to  make  his  work  immedi- 
ately serviceable  to  the  spiritual  needs  of  all  whom  he  could 
reach  by  showing  in  the  strongest  light  the  eternal  realities 
which  he  clearly  saw.  He  spoke  with  fearless  and  charming 
directness  to  the  inherent  reason  in  man  and  met  with  an 
instant  and  grateful  response. 

A  Ufelong  friend  of  B^jtor  Clarke,  Frances,  the  playmate 
of  his  childhood,  said  recently:  "I  hope  the  biography  will 
not  be  too  reserved — that  it  will  contain  a  good  many  of  the 
Uttle  personal  touches  that  reveal  the  man.  If  they  are  left 
out  his  old  friends  will  miss  them,  for  they  cared  a  great  deal 
more  about  what  he  was  than  for  all  that  he  ever  did." 

This  chapter  is  devoted  chiefly  to  expressions  from  those 
who  knew  Doctor  Clarke,  made  either  in  letters  or  in  pub- 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  103 

lished  notices  and  articles  which  appeared  soon  after  his 
death.  A  little  space  may  be  given,  however,  to  the  per- 
sonal tastes  and  traits  in  his  life  at  home  and  among  intimate 
friends. 

Not  long  ago  the  writer  looked  through  a  collection  of  old 
books,  some  of  which  had  belonged  to  the  Clarke  children 
during  their  early  years  in  the  Cazenovia  parsonage.  Among 
them  was  a  boimd  volume  of  The  Yoicth^s  Cabinet  which 
looked  strangely  fresh  and  unused.  Indeed,  it  proved  upon 
examination  to  be  almost  unreadable,  made  up  of  dreary 
didactic  essays,  uninteresting  articles  upon  natural  history, 
and  poor  poetry.  The  editor,  however,  made  much  of  the  puz- 
zle pages,  which  were  the  only  interesting  part  of  the  book. 
The  explanation  was  this:  The  subscription  to  the  magazine 
had  been  made  for  William's  benefit,  and  when  a  new  number 
arrived  he  would  sit  down  with  it  at  the  table  with  pencil 
and  paper,  turn  at  once  to  the  puzzle  department,  crack  all 
the  nuts,  and  then  throw  it  aside. 

His  liking  for  all  sorts  of  puzzles,  letter  and  word  games 
lasted  throughout  his  life.  He  usually  carried  a  pencil  and  a 
small  pad  of  paper,  and  his  wife  not  seldom  found,  in  going 
through  a  coat  that  was  to  be  put  away  or  given  away,  pieces 
of  paper  covered  with  combinations  of  letters  and  transfor- 
mations of  words,  sometimes  droll,  with  which  he  had  occu- 
pied his  spare  moments,  perhaps  on  a  train  or  while  waiting 
at  a  railway- station.  Language  was  fascinating  and  delight- 
ful to  him.  Had  he  given  his  life  to  linguistic  studies  he 
might  have  gone  deeply  into  philology.  He  had  upon  his 
own  book-shelves  a  good  deal  of  philological  literature.  When 
absent  from  home,  as  in  De  Land,  he  would  sometimes  begin 
to  query  as  to  the  derivation  of  a  word  and  would  note  it 
upon  that  ever-ready  pad  of  paper  to  be  looked  up  in  the 
college  library,  which  he  visited  almost  every  day.  He  was 
finely  sensitive  to  the  precise  value  of  words,  yet  without  a 
trace  of  dilettantism.     He  was  a  ready  rhymester  and  now 


I04  WILLL\M   NEWTON   CLARKE 

and  then  made  an  ingenious  and  amusing  limerick,  under  the 
challenge  and  stimulus  of  a  word  or  phrase  seemingly  impos- 
sible to  mate  with  a  rhyme.  ''The  Poet  to  His  Cat,"  an  off- 
hand piece  of  doggerel  which  appeared  long  ago  in  St.  Nicholas, 
shows  how  easily  and  aptly  he  coined  expressions  to  meet  the 
exigencies  of  rhyme  and  rhythm. 

He  was  quick  to  see  the  possibiHties  in  a  word  or  phrase 
and  once  made  a  series  of  anagrams  from  titles  of  Anthony 
Trollope's  novels,  all  of  which  were  odd  and  suggestive  and 
some  very  funny.  The  only  one  of  those  transformations 
which  now  comes  to  mind  is  "The  Last  Chronicle  of  Barset," 
which  became  "  Chattlechafe's  Iron  Lobster."  These  ana- 
grams were  published  somewhere,  perhaps  in  the  Youth's  Com- 
panion. 

EUs  innate  vein  of  drollery  found  vent  in  various  small 
ways.  At  one  time  he  liked  to  make  "Angular  Saxons,"  fol- 
lowing out  an  idea  found  in  the  life  of  Charles  Kingsley.  He 
could  not  draw  a  picture  of  anything,  but  as  he  sat,  pen  in 
hand,  at  his  table,  he  would  rapidly  sketch  a  series  of  laugh- 
able little  impish  figures  in  the  most  expressive  attitudes.  He 
would  drop  a  little  ink  upon  a  slip  of  paper,  fold  and  press 
it,  and  the  effect  was  almost  always  something  droll  and 
suggestive.  The  results  were  quite  tame  whenever  his  wife 
tried  it,  and  she  used  to  accuse  him  of  ha\dng  a  "familiar," 
a  Puck-Hke  sprite,  who  possessed  his  hand  and  was  the  real 
creator  of  these  follies. 

Naturally,  he  liked  games.  During  his  first  year  in  col- 
lege he  did  a  little  card-playing,  but  soon  abandoned  cards 
forever.  He  learned  something  of  chess  but  was  too  busy  to 
follow  it  up.  In  an  idle  hour  he  liked  to  play  backgammon 
if  he  had  an  antagonist  as  rapid  as  himself.  In  the  sixties 
everybody  played  croquet,  and  he  liked  to  loiter  with  con- 
genial companions  over  a  croquet  ground,  though  his  right 
arm  was  never  very  sure  or  strong,  and  games  of  skill  were 
not  for  him. 


PERSONAL  CHARACTERISTICS  105 

He  was  interested  in  the  various  temperance  movements. 
Some  years  ago  there  was  a  convention  of  the  W.  C.  T.  U.  at 
Cazenovia.  At  one  of  the  meetings  Doctor  Clarke's  sister 
and  the  playmate  of  their  childhood  were  sitting  side  by  side 
while  a  delegate  from  Hamilton  was  giving  her  report.  In 
mentioning  the  persons  who  were  always  ready  to  help,  she 
spoke  of  Doctor  Clarke  and  said  that  he  was  accustomed  to 
attend  the  annual  picnic  of  the  Prohibitionists  and  to  speak. 
At  this  Frances,  beaming  with  mirth  and  the  memory  of  in- 
numerable good  times  alfresco,  turned  to  her  companion  with 
the  exclamation:  "I  should  like  to  know  what  earthly  thing 
could  ever  keep  Will  Clarke  away  from  a  picnic !  " 

Certainly  his  love  of  outdoor  life  was  one  of  Doctor 
Clarke's  marked  characteristics.  A  veranda  was  good  to  sit 
on,  but  he  liked  best  of  all  to  be  under  the  open  sky.  His 
wife  was  as  truly  a  child  of  earth,  air,  and  water  as  himself. 
One  summer  vacation  was  spent  in  Franconia,  New  Hamp- 
shire, a  region  of  exquisite  natural  beauty  which  has  since 
become  pitifully  marred.  We  had  many  drives  through  the 
valley  toward  Mount  Lafayette,  and  to  us  the  most  beautiful 
spot  of  all  was  the  Flume,  which  a  few  years  later  was  ravaged 
and  almost  ruined  by  a  freshet  and  landslide  caused  by  the 
deforesting  of  a  large  area  on  Mount  Lafayette.  We  visited  the 
Flume  again  and  again,  gazed  at  it,  studied  it,  and  carried 
away  a  lasting  impression  of  its  unique  perfection  as  a  piece 
of  nature's  patient,  age-long  artistry.  We  were  in  a  cottage 
a  little  apart  from  the  hotel,  and  close  at  hand  was  a  bit  of 
woodland  sloping  down  to  the  Pemigewasset  River,  a  bright, 
rapid,  melodious  stream.  There  we  found  a  charming  spot 
where  we  spent  memorable  hours.  This  place  was  the  native 
home  of  many  species  of  delicate  wild  growths,  now  almost 
exterminated  everywhere.  One  day  as  we  sat  among  the 
mosses  and  creeping  plants  we  noticed  a  small  flat  stone 
that  had  been  split  in  twain  by  the  action  of  frost.  A  fern 
had  germinated  in  the  crevice  between  the  two  halves  of  the 


io6  Wn^LIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

stone  and  by  its  vigorous  growth  was  forcing  them  apart  to 
make  room  for  itself. 

There  was  in  this  tiny  plant  a  suggestion  of  purpose  and 
persistent  will,  almost  of  personahty,  which  impressed  them 
\avidly.  As  we  spoke  together  of  this,  and  thought  developed 
out  of  thought,  a  new  and  revealing  light  shone  upon  the  visi- 
ble world.  In  one  of  Doctor  Clarke's  note-books  was  found 
recently  an  allusion  to  this  experience  and  the  thoughts  which 
it  awakened  regarding  the  freedom  of  the  human  spirit,  in 
opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  determinism. 

Upon  another  day,  in  the  same  place,  the  tiny  evergreen 
leaves  and  snow-white  fruit  of  the  creeping  snowberry,  grow- 
ing amid  mosses  and  tiny  ferns,  caught  our  attention.  It  is 
a  fairy-like  species  of  wintergreen,  possessing  the  same  aro- 
matic flavor,  and  this  led  to  a  talk  about  the  contrast  as 
to  flavor  between  the  snowberry  and  its  insipid  neighbor, 
the  bright-red  partridgeberry,  and  the  inherent  affinities  of 
plants  by  which  they  draw,  or  create,  unlike  properties  from 
the  same  soil.  We  did  not  then  know  how  potent  is  the 
healing  virtue  of  wintergreen.  The  months  in  Franconia  un- 
folded, day  by  day,  new  gifts  of  beauty  and  delight,  enough 
for  a  lifetime,  as  it  seemed  in  the  retrospect. 

Those  who  knew  him  best  can  hardly  think  of  him  apart 
from  his  love  of  music  and  his  rare  gift  of  musical  expres- 
sion. He  had  no  instruction  in  music  until  his  fourteenth 
year,  but  happily  his  teacher,  knowing  that  he  had  a  bom 
musician  to  deal  with,  began  at  once  to  unfold  to  him  the 
principles  of  music.  As  he  understood  thus  the  meaning  of 
what  he  was  learning,  at  every  step,  he  advanced  rapidly  in 
his  mastery  of  the  keys.  He  had  not  only  a  fine  sense  of  har- 
mony, but  of  absolute  pitch  also,  and  often  surprised  musi- 
cians more  highly  trained  than  he  by  hjs  instant  recognition 
of  the  key  in  which  any  piece  of  music  was  being  rendered. 
He  was  suddenly  set  at  playing  the  organ  in  his  father's 
church  on  a  Sunday  morning  when  the  organist  was  absent 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  107 

on  account  of  illness.  As  he  did  not  wish  to  return  to  his  post, 
William  became  his  successor  and  was  soon  transposing  tunes 
to  suit  the  voices  of  the  choir  and  otherwise  sympathetically- 
adapting  his  accompaniments  to  their  needs  in  ways  that 
they  had  never  supposed  to  be  possible. 

His  love  of  music  was,  however,  never  largely  indulged. 
It  was  to  him  only  a  recreation  to  which  he  could  not  give 
much  time.  This  early  acquaintance  with  church  music  led 
to  an  ever-enlarging  interest  in  hymnology.  He  made  tunes 
for  many  of  his  favorite  hymns,  but  only  three  of  these  were 
ever  written  down.  One  day  a  boy  friend,  Pierpont  Stack- 
pole,  made  an  appointment  and  appeared  at  the  parsonage 
in  Hamilton  with  music-paper  and  pen,  and  captured  these 
three  tunes,  two  of  which  were  used  in  a  collection  called 
^'Sursum  Corda."  One  of  these,  called  "St.  Vivian,"  was 
set  to  Faber's  hymn,  "There's  a  wideness  in  God's  mercy, 
like  the  wideness  of  the  sea."  The  other,  set  to  the  hymn 
beginning, 

"Dear  God  and  Master  mine," 

Doctor  Clarke  named  "Emiha."  He  never  had  a  piano  of 
his  own  until  he  was  settled  in  Hamilton.  Then  he  was  per- 
suaded to  indulge  himself  and  his  friends  thus  far.  This 
piano,  which  he  chose  very  carefully,  was  a  sweet-toned 
Weber,  and  it  was  always  a  delight  in  the  home. 

His  innate  sense  of  the  beautiful  and  the  picturesque  in 
nature  was  developed  and  fostered  by  his  early  environment. 
Cazenovia  has  its  setting  in  a  region  interesting  at  every  sea- 
son of  the  year,  and  charming  from  May  to  November.  And 
the  boy  who  rowed  with  his  comrades  upon  the  blue  lake,  ex- 
plored the  fields  and  the  woods,  and  drove  with  his  father  over 
the  hills  and  among  the  valleys,  in  the  verdure  of  summer 
and  the  snows  of  winter,  was  unconsciously  garnering  an  in- 
finite store  of  impressions  which  enriched  his  whole  life.  He 
lived  in  a  quietude  and  unity  within  himself,  which  may  be 


io8  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

incomprehensible  to  a  young  student  of  the  present  time. 
The  gentle  habitudes  of  those  early  years  seem  to  have  woven 
a  garment  of  peace  around  his  soul  which  could  never  be 
torn  away. 

The  kind  of  life  into  which  he  was  bom  was  truly  con- 
genial to  him,  although  it  had  its  limitations,  of  which  he 
became  aware  as  he  passed  from  youth  to  manhood;  but  he 
never  ceased  to  be  thankful  for  the  "tender  grace"  of  his 
early  experiences. 

Enfolded  as  he  was  by  the  strong  and  loving  care  of  a 
devout,  broad-minded,  wise  father,  it  was  easy  for  him  to 
believe  in  a  heavenly  Father  and,  when  the  time  for  decision 
came,  to  commit  himself  wholly  and  irrevocably  to  the  God 
in  whom  he  lived  and  moved  and  had  his  being. 

There  is  a  little  book  in  which,  many  years  later.  Doctor 
Clarke  noted  the  dates  of  a  number  of  important  ancestral 
and  personal  events.  In  this  list  he  wrote,  under  the  date  of 
April  21,  1858:  "The  personal  religious  experience  began  in 
my  life."  This  was  a  clearly  marked  epoch  in  his  career.  In 
the  act  of  faith  and  self-surrender  there  came  to  him  a  \i\nd 
con\action  of  the  actual  presence  of  God  and  an  inexpressi- 
ble peace  and  joy.  All  things  were  made  new  to  him.  Long 
afterward,  in  writing  of  this  profound  experience,  he  says: 
"I  know  the  year,  the  day,  the  hour,  and  yet  it  was  but  the 
unfolding  of  what  had  been  begun  long  before."  He  deeply 
felt  that  he  owed  everything  to  that  Christian  nurture  which 
had  been  to  his  inmost  self  as  dew  and  sunshine  to  a  tender 
plant.  In  contrasting  the  lives  of  two  Cazeno\-ia  boys,  each 
of  whom  was  widely  influential  in  spheres  far  apart  and  yet 
akin,  one  cannot  but  wonder  what  Robert  Ingersoll  might 
have  been  if  his  mother  had  lived  and  he  had  developed  in 
the  sunshine  of  a  happy  home.  He  might,  perhaps,  have 
preached  the  faith  which  he  denied  and  bitterly  denounced. 

In  the  same  note-book,  a  little  farther  on.  appears  another 
entry,  December,  i860:  "I  decided  to  give  my  life  to  the  work 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  109 

of  the  ministry."    This  decision  was  the  reverse  of  what  he 
had  planned  to  do.     Although  his  parents  took  their  daily 
Ufe  quietly  and  heroically,  their  long  struggle  with  an  insuffi- 
cient income,  and  other  trials  in  their  Hfe,  had  made  a  deep 
impression  upon  the  boy,  who  felt  and  noted  aU,  and  he  was 
resolved  not  to  repeat  their  experience.    He  was  always  an- 
noyed when  good  people  who  came  to  the  parsonage  took  it 
for  granted,  in  their  remarks,  that  he  was  to  foUow  in  the 
footsteps  of  his  father.    He  would  Hsten  in  silence,  but  when 
the  well-meaning  but  tactless  brother  or  sister  had  departed 
he  would  relieve  his  pent-up  feelings  by  exclaiming  hotly 
and  vehemently:  "I  will  mver  preach!"     His  tastes  natu- 
raUy  led  him  to  think  of  becoming  a  teacher  of  languages,  and 
preferably  of  the  classic  tongues,  but  as  his  views  enlarged 
he  saw  the  greatness  and  the  glory  of  the  Ufe  of  a  truly  de- 
voted Christian  minister  and  he  knew  that  nothing  less  could 
satisfy  him.     More  than  this— he  heard  within  his  soul  a 
voice  that  called  him  to  this  service,  and  in  the  end  he  yielded, 
with  most  filial  love  and  trust. 

He  worked  untiringly  in  his  first  parish,  as  the  record 
shows,  and  had  Httle  time  to  ponder  theological  problems; 
yet  a  note-book  of  that  period,  in  which  a  number  of  pages 
are  devoted  to  a  close  questioning  of  the  determinism  of  St. 
Augustine,  shows  that  he  had  already  entered  upon  a  career 
of  independent  thought. 

The  years  at  Newton  Center  were  difiicult  from  first  to 
last,  yet  they  were  great  in  their  opportunities  and  demands, 
and  the  heroism  which  enabled  him  to  hold  on,  to  be  his  true 
self  always  and  to  utter  his  message  as  it  came  to  him,  "with- 
out fear  or  favor,"  could  only  be  understood  by  the  few  who 
knew  his  Hfe  intimately.  Amid  the  wilderness  of  doubts  and 
perplexiries  through  which  he  was  winding  his  heavenly  clew 
and  threading  his  way  upward  to  a  place  of  sure  footmg  and 
broad  outlook,  he  never  lost  his  cheerfulness  and  serenity. 
This  cheerful  and  serene  spirit  was,  perhaps,  his  most  dis- 


no  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

tinctive  trait.  Certainly  it  was  generally  recognized.  His 
sunny  spirit  radiated  light  and  joy  within  his  home  and  made 
him  welcome  wherever  he  went. 

He  knew  how  to  rest  in  vacation  time,  and  at  the  seashore 
or  the  mountains  he  always  seemed  care-free.  He  entered 
heartily  into  whatever  was  going  on  and  quickly  dropped  into 
his  own  place.  He  was  good  sailor  and  loved  the  ocean. 
Happily,  his  wife  also  could  keep  a  steady  head  in  a  choppy 
sea.  At  Nantucket,  East  Gloucester,  or  Mount  Desert,  in 
the  days  when  those  places  had  their  primitive  flavor,  they 
liked  to  go  out  in  a  sailboat  on  a  breezy  morning,  when  the 
waves  wore  whitecaps,  with  some  careful,  experienced,  old 
"sea  dog,"  like  Captain  Kenney  of  Nantucket,  with  his  alert, 
efficient  son.  Many  such  hours  were  spent,  here  and  there, 
along  the  New  England  coast.  And  the  mountains — those 
glorious  White  Mountains,  not  yet  despoiled — and  later  the 
Adirondacks. 

There  were  little,  unknown  places,  too,  to  which  we  were 
sometimes  led,  which  we  remembered  even  more  lovingly 
than  the  famous  ones.  We  once  spent  a  week  beside  Lake 
Winola,  late  in  the  summer  of  1886.  There  was  a  small  hotel 
in  a  remnant  of  woodland  where  ferns  and  wild  flowers  still 
lived  and  birds  sang.  We  were  domiciled  in  a  tiny  cottage. 
It  had  a  veranda  below  and  an  open  balcony  above,  from 
which  there  was  a  pleasant  \dew  toward  the  lake,  glimmering, 
partly  hidden,  through  trees.  One  afternoon,  when  the 
shadows  were  long,  we  had  been  rowing  on  the  lake  and  were 
resting  near  the  east  shore  when  a  group  of  cattle  came  down 
the  wooded  slope  into  the  water,  stood  there  and  drank, 
making  a  picture  at  which  both  exclaimed  with  delight. 
Some  years  later  we  came  upon  a  fine  etching,  by  Moran,  of 
cattle  in  a  stream,  which  so  resembled  the  picture  cherished 
in  memory  that  it  could  not  be  resisted.  We  made  it  our 
own  and  it  was  hung  over  the  piano  in  the  house  on  College 
Hill,  which  was  our  home  for  seventeen  years. 


PERSONAL  CHARACTERISTICS  iii 

From  that  idyllic  spot  by  Lake  Winola  Doctor  Clarke  was 
hurried  away  by  a  telegram  announcing  the  death  of  his 
friend  Stackpole,  and  thus  a  beautiful  memory  was  made  sad. 

Doctor  Clarke  had  "a  genius  for  friendship,"  and  it  is  a 
matter  for  regret  that  no  space  can  be  given  here  for  an  ac- 
count of  some  of  the  friendships  that  were  a  large  and  precious 
element  in  his  Ufe.  The  delightful  relations  with  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Stackpole  and  their  sons  were  always  cherished;  and 
there  were  others,  almost  lifelong  friends  and  later  friends, 
who  were  very  dear.  His  constancy,  even  to  things,  which 
had  served  him  well  and  had  dear  associations  is  illustrated 
by  something  which  came  to  notice  recently  in  going  through 
the  many  books  which  had  accumulated  in  bookcases  and 
in  closets  in  spite  of  the  occasional  gathering  out  and  send- 
ing away  of  books  disused,  to  which  the  owner  nerved  him- 
self when  space  was  needed  for  newer  books.  He  had  a  Rob- 
inson's Greek  and  English  Lexicon,  in  which  his  name  was 
written,  with  the  date,  1861,  the  year  of  his  graduation  from 
college  and  entrance  into  the  theological  seminary.  He  used 
this  lexicon  and  kept  it  at  hand  during  all  of  that  period  in 
which  his  principal  study  was  New  Testament  exegesis.  He 
had  his  Clavis  and  added  to  his  stock  of  exegetical  tools 
the  newest  and  best  as  years  went  on,  but  this  old  familiar 
lexicon  was  dear  to  him.  The  time  came  when  he  knew  his 
Greek  Testament  so  well  that  he  needed  neither  lexicon  nor 
concordance.  Meanwhile,  the  exigent  questions  of  theology 
had  claimed  him.  The  old,  worn  lexicon,  with  other  books 
that  had  been  indispensable  in  their  day,  he  put  away  in  a 
closet  in  the  attic  which  gradually  became  crammed  with 
books.  There  it  was  found,  against  the  wall,  flanked  by 
Ellicott,  Trench,  and  Stanley,  and  with  a  rampart  of  other 
books  in  front  running  from  end  to  end  of  the  broad  shelf. 
It  was  as  if  he  had  tenderly  entombed  those  old  friends, 
knowdng  that  he  should  never  look  upon  them  again.  Fast- 
ened upon  the  blank  leaf  of  the  lexicon  was  a  printed  me- 


112  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

morial  notice  of  Doctor  Clarke's  father,  who  had  died,  on 
March  6,  187 1,  at  the  age  of  sLxty-two  years.  This  char- 
acterization, written  by  an  old  friend  and  associate  in  the 
ministry,  Doctor  Clarke  had  accepted  as  a  true  estimate  of 
his  father  and  had  placed  in  the  book  which  was  in  daily  use 
and  always  at  hand.  No  act  could  have  been  more  character- 
istic. Some  sentences  in  this  brief  article  are  in  tone  and 
in  expression  almost  precisely  the  same  as  many  which  ap- 
peared lately  in  reference  to  himself.  "As  a  man  he  was 
gentle  and  genial  as  a  child  in  all  the  relations  of  life." 
"Though  firm  and  unyielding  in  principle,  he  was  governed 
by  a  broad  charity  toward  those  who  differed  from  him." 
"Incapable  of  double-dealing  himself,  he  could  not  tolerate 
it  in  others."  "Lucid  in  thought,  clear  in  expression,  and 
sincere  in  manner,  he  always  commended  himself  to  every 
man's  conscience  in  the  sight  of  God." 

Among  the  books  in  Doctor  Clarke's  library  which  were 
indeed  his  book  friends,  and  which  he  never  parted  with, 
while  others  came,  served  their  purpose,  and  disappeared, 
was  a  copy  of  Tliortidale,  or  the  Conflict  of  Opinions,  by  Wil- 
liam Smith,  an  English  writer  of  the  mid-Victorian  period. 
This  book  was  republished  by  Ticknor  and  Fields  in  1859. 
Both  in  England  and  America  it  found  "fit  audience  though 
few." 

Upon  the  fly-leaf  Clarke  had  written  his  name  with  the 
date,  Newton  Center,  1869.  His  wife  remembers  his  bring- 
ing the  book  home,  his  reading  and  remarking  upon  it,  and 
her  own  dipping  into  it  here  and  there.  She  never  saw  the 
book  in  his  hand  in  later  years  and  probably  he  never  read  it 
more  than  once,  yet  he  kept  it  in  a  prominent  place  during 
all  the  years  at  Newton  Center,  in  Canada,  and  through  most 
of  the  years  in  Hamilton.  In  1889  The  Story  of  William  and 
Lucy  Smith  appeared.  It  was  read  with  deep  appreciation 
and  given  its  own  place  beside  Thorndalc.  When  Thorndale 
finally  vanished  from  the  bookcase  it  did  not  go  into  exile. 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  113 

but  into  an  honorable  retirement  in  the  study-closet  close 
at  hand. 

There  was  a  certain  significance  in  the  way  he  treated 
this  book  which  sheds  Hght  upon  his  own  personality.  Thorn- 
dale  is  a  profoundly  earnest,  sympathetic,  and  clear  discus- 
sion of  philosophic,  religious,  and  social  problems  as  they  ap- 
peared sixty  years  ago  to  a  discriminating  and  noble  mind 
which  was  at  once  poetic  and  practical. 

The  plan  of  the  book  is  most  engaging.  Through  it  runs 
a  thread  of  tender  and  picturesque  narration  by  means  of 
which  various  characters  appear  who  take  part  in  the  dis- 
cussions and  freely  and  vividly  express  their  widely  differing 
views.  The  production  as  a  whole  is  as  charming  as  it  is  val- 
uable, and,  read  to-day,  its  prophetic  character  is  startling. 

It  was,  no  doubt,  the  warm  response  in  Clarke's  nature 
to  the  personality  of  the  author  which  led  him  to  keep  the 
book  in  sight.  In  WilKam  Smith,  William  Clarke  had  found 
a  kindred  spirit. 

On  January  i,  1903,  Doctor  Clarke  gave  to  his  wife  a  book 
in  which  he  had  written  a  page  made  up  of  selections  and  of 
thoughts  and  prayers  of  his  own,  for  each  day  in  the  year. 
The  quotations  are  chiefly,  but  not  wholly,  religious  and  are 
of  the  widest  range  as  to  authorship  and  time. 

The  selection  from  Jeremy  Taylor:  "It  is  a  great  source 
of  calm  and  repose  in  our  religious  life  always  to  turn  from 
small  things  to  great,  from  things  far  away  to  things  near  at 
hand,  from  the  foolishness  of  controversy  to  the  truths  which 
are  simple  and  eternal,  from  man  to  God." 

From  Augustine:  "With  that  face  will  he  come  to  the 
home  land,  who  has  not  longed  for  it  when  absent?  " 

A  word  of  his  own:  "Live  in  only  one  world  at  a  time? 
Impossible.  There  are  but  two  worlds,  the  material  and  the 
spiritual,  and  we  always  live  in  both.  To  withdraw  into  the 
material  alone  is  beyond  our  power.  It  would  be  the  extinc- 
tion of  our  highest  present  life.     All  love,  all  education,  all 


114  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

thought  belong  to  that  spiritual  world  which  is  invisible,  in- 
deed, and  yet  is  a  part  of  our  native  element  even  now." 

From  Margaret  Deland:  ''The  sense  of  sin  in  the  human 
soul  is  the  apprehension  of  Almighty  God." 

Last  words  of  John  Woolman:  "I  believe  my  being  here 
is  in  the  ^^^sdom  of  God;  I  do  not  know  as  to  Hfe  or  death." 

From  George  Fox:  "And  one  morning,  sitting  by  the  fire, 
a  great  cloud  came  over  me  and  a  great  temptation  beset 
me.  And  it  was  said,  'All  things  come  by  fiature':  and  the 
elements  and  the  stars  came  over  me.  And  as  I  sat  still  and 
let  it  alone,  a  living  hope  arose  in  me,  and  a  true  voice  which 
said,  'There  is  a  living  God,  who  made  all  things  J  And  imme- 
diately the  cloud  and  the  temptation  vanished,  and  life  rose 
over  all,  and  my  heart  was  glad  and  I  praised  the  living  God." 

A  page  is  given  to  Longfellow's  poem  on  Amalfi,  begin- 
ning 

"Sweet  the  memory  is  to  me 
Of  a  land  beyond  the  sea." 

From  Charles  Kingsley:  *'I  don't  want  to  possess  a  faith; 
I  want  a  faith  that  will  possess  me." 

From  John  Woolman:  "Baptized  into  a  sense  of  human 
conditions." 

From  Dora  Greenwell:  "The  intellect  has  many  illusions, 
but  the  dreams  of  the  heart  come  true,  because  the  instinct 
of  the  heart  is  prophetic." 

The  book  contains  stanzas  from  familiar  hymns,  passages 
from  well-known  poets  and  from  Scripture,  prayers,  and 
brief  sayings,  gathered  from  all  ages  and  all  lands. 

This  last  is  Doctor  Clarke's  own  prayer: 

"O  Thou  the  Way,  help  me  to  walk  in  thee  to  the  true  end  and 

home; 
O  Thou  the  Truth,  help  me  to  see  thee,  feel  thee,  think  thee, 

have  thee,  love  thee; 
O  Thou  the  Life,  live  thou  in  me  and  make  me  live  by  thee." 


PERSONAL  CHARACTERISTICS  115 

The  following  passages  are  from  an  article  upon  Doctor 
Clarke,  published  in  March,  191 2,  in  the  Colgate  Alum?ii 
Quarterly,  by  the  Reverend  Markham  W.  Stackpole,  the  son 
of  his  friend  and  predecessor  in  the  pastorate  at  Hamilton: 

"Doctor  Clarke's  mind  was  fresh  and  alert,  and  he  de- 
hghted  in  freshness  of  thought  and  form.  The  very  titles  of 
his  books  reveal  this  trait  of  his  mind.  His  intellectual  in- 
terests were  varied  and  he  read  widely.  A  student  of  po- 
etry and  hymnology  and  lover  of  music,  he  was  also  keenly 
alive  to  the  scientific  and  humanitarian  interests  of  the  day. 
It  was  significant  that  in  his  last  book  he  should  have  dealt 
with  some  of  the  great  social  questions  of  our  time. 

** Doctor  Clarke  loved  his  work.  Whether  it  was  preach- 
ing, teaching,  or  writing,  he  entered  into  it  with  zest  and  he 
performed  it  with  apparent  ease.  It  was  natural,  then,  that 
he  should  be  an  optimist.  Though  a  fearless  progressive  in 
his  thinking,  he  had  a  sweetness  of  nature  and  a  devoutness 
of  spirit  that  forbade  the  bitterness  of  controversy.  He  kept 
himself  above  factions.  He  preserved  personal  friendships 
in  spite  of  theological  differences,  and  he  was  too  large  of 
mind  and  heart  to  confine  his  interest  or  friendships  to  a 
single  party  or  denomination.  He  belonged  to  the  'Chris- 
tian Brotherhood.' 

"Few  leaders  among  men  are  so  utterly  lacking  in  self- 
consciousness  as  Doctor  Clarke  was,  and  no  man  wore  his 
honors  more  modestly.  Yet  with  that  fine  honesty  that 
ruled  his  mind  and  his  word  he  acknowledged  that  the  hon- 
ors were  grateful  and  his  work  was  good. 

"For  many  years  Doctor  Clarke  had  stood  in  the  inner 
councils  of  the  university.  He  was  interested  in  every  phase 
of  its  life.  He  was  a  loyal  fraternity  man  and  a  familiar  fig- 
ure at  fraternity  gatherings.  He  was  an  interested  spectator 
at  athletic  contests.  He  enjoyed  the  merriment  of  college 
reunions.  He  served  as  chaplain  or  historian  or  orator  upon 
notable  academic  occasions.  One  generation  of  students 
praised  him  to  another,  for  his  presence  was  a  power  for 
good  in  the  life  of  the  university. 

"He  was  happily  a  prophet  honored  in  his  own  country. 
Hamilton  was  proud  to  claim  him  as  her  own,  and  he  was 
her  own  indeed,  a  man  beloved  by  his  fellow  townspeople. 


ii6  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

The  people  of  Hamilton  saw  that  fame  could  not  rob  him  of 
his  simplicity  and  friendliness.  He  knew  them  by  name 
and  he  knew  about  them.  He  never  lost  the  pastor's  feeling. 
When  he  came  back  from  his  year  abroad  no  welcome  was 
more  hearty,  or  to  him  more  grateful,  than  that  of  the  busi- 
ness men  of  the  town.  It  will  be  recalled  that  they  arranged 
a  banquet  in  his  honor.  One  of  their  leaders  remarked  that 
while  he  himself  knew  Httle  about  theology,  if  the  'new 
theology'  made  men  like  Doctor  Clarke,  that  was  argument 
enough  for  him.  Doctor  Clarke  loved  the  place,  too — the 
cool,  quiet  streets,  the  lofty  trees  upon  his  hillside,  the  shaded 
village,  and  the  noble  valley  sweeping  northward  between 
the  great  hills. 

"But  to  Doctor  Clarke  as  a  friend,  one's  thoughts  turn 
with  special  tenderness.  As  a  young  boy  I  sailed  with  him 
at  the  seashore  and  drove  with  him  among  the  Vermont 
hills,  and  I  felt  then  the  charm  and  heartiness  of  his  nature. 
He  was  ever  an  eagerly  welcomed  visitor  as  our  dear  friend, 
our  pastor,  and  our  fatherly  counsellor. 

"His  quiet,  charming  home  carried  the  atmosphere  of 
culture  and  of  friendship.  He  loved  to  listen  to  music,  and 
sometimes  we  would  persuade  him  to  play  hymn-tunes  of  his 
own  composing.  Again  we  would  sit  in  the  twiUght  of  his 
study  or  upon  his  hospitable  veranda  talking  of  common 
friends  and  interests  and  of  the  deep  things  of  life. 

"His  youthfulness  of  spirit,  his  wit,  his  candor,  his  hearti- 
ness attracted  young  people  to  him.  Without  children  of 
his  own,  he  loved  'his  boys'  and  to  them  he  was  indeed  a 
father,  always  interested,  sympathetic,  and  encouraging. 
Accident  and  infirmity  could  not  diminish  the  cheerfulness 
of  his  nature.  His  talk  sparkled  with  quiet  repartee;  beloved 
good  stories  and  'clean  mirth.'  Some  of  his  letters  were  in- 
imitable. New  friends  were  quickly  drawn  to  this  true  and 
kindly  man.  But  he  did  not  forget  his  old  friends  scattered 
far  and  wide.  Hamilton  is  not  quite  like  Hamilton  since  he 
died,  and  his  old  boys  will  sorely  miss  his  friendly  look  and 
hearty  greeting  at  the  piazza  steps." 

From  an  editorial  in  The  Congregationalist,  by  Doctor 
Bridgman,  dated  January  27,  191 2: 

"The  modest  Christian  scholar  who  last  week  passed  into 
the  realm  where  the  partial  revelation  gives  way  to  the  clear, 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  117 

full  vision  of  God,  had  served  the  Christian  church  in  two 
continents  as  only  those  can  serve  it  who  devote  many  years 
and  rare  gifts  of  insight  and  persistence  to  the  study  and  in- 
terpretation of  human  life,  in  the  light  of  God's  disclosures 
of  himself,  in  his  work,  his  word  and  in  his  Son.  From  his 
classroom  in  the  Theological  Seminary  at  Hamilton,  New 
York,  and  through  his  books,  which  have  gone  throughout 
Christendom,  Doctor  Clarke  has  exerted  a  mighty  influence 
upon  members  of  numberless  religious  bodies,  and  even  upon 
those  outside  the  church.  So  quietly  has  his  work  been  done, 
so  disposed  has  he  been  to  stand  in  the  background,  that  few 
understand  to  what  extent  the  church  as  a  whole  is  indebted 
to  him  as  an  expounder  and  defender  of  the  faith. 

''A  mediating  theologian  Doctor  Clarke  has  been  during 
these  last  twenty-five  years  of  uncertainty  and  transition. 
His  books  reveal,  as  in  a  glass,  his  own  progress  from  earlier 
conceptions  into  the  larger,  truer  views  of  God,  Christ,  the 
Bible,  missions,  and  the  Christian  life.  This  growth  is  par- 
ticularly shown  in  his  Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible,  and  so  be- 
cause his  writings  have  reflected  not  only  his  thought  on  the 
things  of  God,  but  his  actual  personal  experience,  they  have 
had,  to  a  pre-eminent  degree,  the  note  of  reality,  and  have 
been  charged  with  an  uncommon  measure  of  helpfulness  on 
every  page.  The  task  which  he  boldly  undertook  of  relating 
the  old  to  the  new  is  never  an  easy  one  in  any  age.  The  effort 
subjected  him  to  misunderstanding  and  his  way  was  not  al- 
ways smooth,  but  he  never  faltered,  and  in  the  end  he  retained 
the  confidence  and  grew  in  the  confidence  of  the  conservative 
wing  of  the  church. 

*'We  have  had  in  America  few  theologians  so  simple,  hu- 
man, and  companionable  as  William  Newton  Clarke,  a  strong 
preacher,  a  poet  and  hjmin- writer,  a  musician,  intimately 
acquainted  with  classical  and  current  literature,  maintain- 
ing to  the  last  an  eager  interest  in  world  happenings  and 
holding  stanchly  his  carefully  matured  opinions  concerning 
questions  of  public  policy.  A  dehghtful  conversationalist,  a 
stanch  friend,  he  was  a  man  who,  in  any  calling  or  station, 
would  have  won  distinction  and  made  the  world  his  debtor." 

From  an  article  by  Doctor  Harry  Emerson  Fosdick: 

'^The  Examiner  has  asked  me  to  write  briefly  my  recol- 
lections of  Professor  William  Newton  Clarke  in  the  class- 


ii8  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

room.  I  give  myself  readily  to  the  task,  for  my  heart  is 
deepy  engaged  whenever  I  recall  those  wonderful  hours  on 
Colgate  Hill,  presided  over  by  the  spiritual  genius  of  the  great 
teacher.  There  are  doubtless  many  who  can  say,  as  I  can, 
that  but  for  Doctor  Clarke  they  would  not  be  to-day  in  the 
Christian  ministry.  When  the  old  theology  was  clashing  \\ith 
the  new,  and  bitterness  was  deeply  felt  upon  both  sides; 
when,  watching  the  conflict,  the  young  men  of  undergraduate 
years  saw  clearly  that  for  them  it  was  no  longer  a  question 
of  old  or  new  theology,  but  of  new  or  no  theology.  Doctor 
Clarke  stood  as  the  proof  to  us  that  it  was  possible  to  be  a 
Christian  and  reasonable,  a  disciple  and  a  modern  man,  at 
once  devout  and  intelligent.  How  many  of  us  came  to  look 
to  him  as  our  spiritual  godfather !  How  many  of  us  are 
chiefly  thankful  for  this,  that  he  did  not  leave  us  to  be  driven 
from  faith  and  the  church  by  reactionaries,  but  made  it  pos- 
sible for  us  to  become  in  the  new  generation  preachers  of  the 
Gospel  of  Christ. 

"The  closing  paragraph  in  Doctor  Clarke's  Outline  of 
Christian  Theology  interprets  beautifully  the  spirit  of  the 
classroom;  those  who  have  experienced  it  will  remember  and 
understand.  To  those  who  never  sat  at  the  feet  of  this  great 
teacher  of  religion  I  can  only  indicate  a  few  of  the  charac- 
teristics of  his  work. 

"Doctor  Clarke  was  far  more  a  teacher  of  religion  than  of 
theology.  He  clearly  distinguished  between  the  two,  to  be 
sure,  and  set  himself  with  earnest  intellectual  application  to 
formulate  the  mental  categories  of  faith,  but  always  the 
clothes  of  his  thought  fitted  so  closely  the  vital,  moving  spirit 
of  his  faith  that  one  was  aware  of  that  rather  than  of  the  gar- 
ments. Many  a  time  I  have  gone  from  his  classroom  to  my 
couch  for  a  long  rest,  because  I  was  exhausted,  not  with 
intellectual  labor,  but  with  the  attempt  spiritually  to  catch 
his  vision  of  God,  and  sympathetically  to  enter  into  his  ex- 
perience of  peace  in  believing.  No  prayer  meeting  ever  af- 
fected me  so  deeply  as  his  talks  to  his  classes  on  the  great 
themes  of  faith.  He  often  forgot  himself  in  his  personal  tes- 
timony to  the  meaning  of  some  Christian  truth  in  practical 
living.  The  end  of  every  lecture  was:  'Come  and  taste  and 
see.'  If  a  man  wanted  a  thorough  history  of  doctrine,  after 
the  fashion  of  Hamack,  Doctor  Clarke  would  have  disap- 


PERSONAL  CHARACTERISTICS  119 

pointed  him.  If  a  man  were  a  metaphysician,  demanding  a 
well-articulated  system,  with  provision  made  for  every  'if,' 
'and,'  and  'but,'  Doctor  Clarke  never  could  have  satisfied 
him.  If,  however,  a  young  man,  confused  by  conflicting 
theories,  jnystified  as  to  the  real  meaning  of  rehgion,  dubious 
as  to  the  gospel  he  was  expected  to  preach,  wanted  poise 
and  insight,  breadth  of  vision  and  sanity  of  thought,  and 
with  it  all  a  passionate  devotion  to  the  Master,  and  a  clear 
perception  of  the  world's  need  of  him.  Doctor  Clarke  was 
pre-eminently  the  one  to  fit  his  case.  He  was  a  teacher  of  the 
old  school — God  give  us  more  of  them ! — who  gave  his  classes 
his  personality  and  breathed  his  spirit  into  them. 

"As  to  his  practical  method,  it  was  as  simple  as  the  man 
himself.  In  the  main  it  consisted  in  reading  over  the  text 
with  running  comments.  The  running  comments  were  the 
best  of  it.  Sometimes  they  were  keen  with  wit.  'Many  a 
man  considers  himself  a  stream  of  tendency,'  he  said  once. 
Sometimes  they  were  fiery  and  indignant,  as  when  a  fresh 
student  ventured  to  question  his  loyalty  to  the  Master; 
sometimes  they  were  personal  confessions,  charmingly  made." 

From  an  article  in  The  Congregationalist,  by  Reverend 
Frederick  W.  Raymond: 

"A  friend,  who  loved  and  was  greatly  loved  by  Doctor 
Clarke,  has  written  me  how  he  has  taken  down  his  copy  of 
Doctor  Clarke's  Theology  and  has  been  going  over  such  utter- 
ances as  he  had  recorded  on  the  margin  of  the  book  in  his 
classroom  days.  Like  him,  I  have  also  been  moved  to  review 
the  margins  of  my  copy.  Among  the  many  sentences  writ- 
ten there  I  find  no  duplicates  of  those  my  friend  reports. 
This  suggests  the  great  wealth  of  his  unpubHshed  but  mem- 
orable utterances.  Here  are  some  of  these  gems  from  the 
margin  of  my  book,  which  I  venture  to  pass  on  in  loving  mem- 
ory of  my  friend,  counsellor,  and  spiritual  father.  Though 
unrelated  to  each  other  and  stripped  of  their  association  on 
the  page,  they  are  suggestive  in  themselves  and  worthy  to 
stand  alone  as  herewith  printed: 

"  '  The  New  Testament  throws  more  light  backward  than 
the  Old  throws  forward.' 

"  *  If  Paul  had  been  told  that  he  would  be  talked  about  as 


120  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

being  of  equal  authority  with  the  Lord,  he  would  have  burned 
his  letters.' 

"  '  If  we  know  God  better  than  Paul  did,  Paul  would  have 
been  very  glad  of  it,  and  so  would  the  Lord.' 

"  '  Christian  faith  has  been  built  largely  on  the  Bible  in- 
stead of  on  God  and  Christ.' 

"  '  ;Moving  in  the  line  of  the  best  that  he  knows,  a  man 
moves  toward  God.' 

"  '  The  eflfect  of  denying  the  personality  of  God  can  be 
learned  only  in  India.' 

"  '  Permanently,  you  will  not  hold  any  doctrine  of  Chris- 
tianity that  is  inconsistent  with  your  conception  of  God.' 

"  '  While  there  is  a  soul,  there  are  the  possibilities  of  a  soul. 
Whether  God  can  gather  in  all  the  souls  is  the  problem  on 
which  we  wait.' 

"In  one  of  his  last  letters  to  me,  written  in  most  genial 
mood  less  than  a  month  before  his  death,  he  wrote:  '  I  have 
had  a  good  autumn,  teaching  a  course  in  Christian  belief, 
with  high  enjoyment  and  aware  of  really  conveying  a  good 
deal  to  my  men.  Things  never  went  better.  On  Decem- 
ber 2  I  crossed  the  line  of  seventy  years,  reputed  among  the 
young  and  callous  to  be  the  line  of  old  age,  but  in  reality  a 
very  innocuous  chalk  mark,  scarcely  perceptible  when  you 
really  arrive.  It  reverses  natural  optics  by  looking  larger 
from  a  distance  than  near  at  hand.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
have  felt  younger  than  usual  of  late,  and  am  inclined  to  be 
a  heretic  as  to  the  almanac  anyhow.  My  good  term  of  teach- 
ing has  juvenated  me  somewhat,  I  think,  and  I  am  hoping 
to  have  enough  in  me  to  put  the  term's  work,  which  is  new, 
into  a  book.'" 

Near  the  end  of  his  life,  in  speaking  of  the  difficulty 
which  teachers  in  theological  schools  find  in  overcoming  the 
prejudices  and  false  ideas  regarding  the  Bible  which  many 
students  bring  with  them  to  the  seminary,  Doctor  Clarke 
said:  "If  I  were  arranging  the  work  of  a  theological  school, 
I  would  put  first  of  all,  for  beginners,  a  course  in — What  the 
Bible  Ts.^'  He  had  spent  much  time  in  patient  and  often 
futile  efforts  to  convince  his  students  what  the  Bible  is  not. 

While  at  Newton  Center  he  read  the  sympathetic  and 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  121 

beautiful  Life  of  Edward  Irving,  by  Mrs.  Oliphant,  and  was 
deeply  touched  by  it.  Edward  Irving  was  a  man  of  rare  per- 
sonal attractiveness  and  extraordinary  gifts,  who  had  been 
the  fellow  student  and  close  friend  of  Thomas  Carlyle  and 
was  perhaps  the  only  one  of  his  early  associates  whom  Car- 
lyle regarded  as  his  own  intellectual  peer. 

Irving  was  fervidly  devout  and  gave  himself  to  his  work 
as  the  minister  of  a  congregation  in  London  with  astonishing 
ardor.  His  eloquence,  his  tenderness,  his  "apostoHc  faith," 
his  magnificent  personaHty  made  him  for  a  time  the  wonder 
of  London.  "All  the  world  flocked  to  hear  him."  He  staked 
his  all  upon  what  he  deemed  to  be  a  supreme  test  of  faith 
and  seemed  at  first  to  win;  in  the  end  to  lose.  He  died  while 
still  a  young  man,  broken-hearted,  in  agonies  of  doubt  as  to 
the  real  meaning  of  strange  phenomena  which  he  had  wel- 
comed at  first  as  answers  to  prayer  and  evidences  of  the  pres- 
ence and  favor  of  God,  exclaiming  at  the  last:  "Though  he 
slay  me  yet  will  I  trust  in  him !" 

Soon  after  reading  the  pathetic  story  of  Irving,  Clarke 
was  asked  to  give  the  alumni  address  at  Hamilton.  Irving's 
failure  and  the  causes  of  it  seemed  to  him  to  contain  a  lesson 
of  deep  import  for  young  men,  and  his  address  upon  that 
occasion  was  upon  Edward  Irving,  whose  absolute  literahsm 
in  interpreting  the  Bible  had  led  him  and  many  of  his  congre- 
gation into  things  which  the  more  thoughtful  and  sane  in  his 
church  and  among  his  friends  regarded  as  wild  delusions. 

This  presentation  of  Irving's  career  made  a  lasting  im- 
pression. One  of  the  listeners  was  then  a  young  student  at 
Hamilton,  now  Doctor  Clarke's  successor  in  the  chair  of 
ethics,  Doctor  William  M.  Lawrence,  who  tells  in  the  follow- 
ing letter  how  it  affected  him: 

"It  is  a  good  many  years  since  Doctor  Clarke  delivered 
his  address  on  Edward  Irving  at  Colgate.  So  many,  that  I 
am  not  sure  that  I  can  be  just,  either  to  him  or  myself.  I 
think  it  was  about  1875.    At  that  time,  it  was  the  custom  of 


122  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

the  college  to  have  its  baccalaureate  on  Sunday  morning,  and 
sermon  Sunday  night,  and  on  Monday  night  an  address  before 
the  alumni  or  the  Education  Society. 

"It  was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  seen  Doctor  Clarke,  but 
I  had  already  heard  enough  about  him  to  make  me  feel  very 
desirous.  I  recall  distinctly  the  surprise  I  had  when  he  an- 
nounced his  subject.  It  was  not  named  in  the  formal  way. 
He  began  in  that  conversational  manner,  which  is  fatal  to  so 
many  men,  but  was  so  attractive  in  him,  and  led  up  to  the 
announcement  of  his  theme  by  some  general  remarks,  not  in 
any  way  of  apology  or  explanation,  but  taking  it  for  granted 
that  every  one  would  be  interested  in  the  selection  which  he 
had  made. 

"His  way  of  dealing  with  the  subject  was  most  intimate. 
We  were  not  presented  to  Edward  Irving  after  the  manner  of 
biographies  or  sketches,  but  we  seemed  to  move  in  the  same 
atmosphere  and  to  be  looking  out  through  Edward  Irving's 
eyes  upon  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  and  to  be  permeated 
with  sympathy  for  him  and  with  him  and  with  the  way  in 
which  he  dealt  with  those  times. 

"The  manner  of  Doctor  Clarke  at  this  time  made  a  great 
impression  upon  me;  but  while  I  was  so  impressed,  at  the 
same  time  I  was  more  so  by  the  wonderful  ability  which 
Doctor  Clarke  displayed  in  disclosing  to  us  the  many-sided 
character  of  Irving.  I  could  not  help  but  feel  at  that  time 
that  the  impression  that  Edward  Irving  had  made  upon  Doc- 
tor Clarke  was  to  be  a  vital  part  of  Doctor  Clarke's  mental 
and  spiritual  possession.  It  is  true  that  he  did  not  hesitate 
to  criticise  freely,  when  and  where  he  differed  from  Edward 
Irving,  especially  with  reference  to  the  supposed  influences 
and  manifestations  that  Edward  Irving  claimed  to  be  real; 
yet,  as  I  have  just  said,  there  was  a  profound  sympathy  in 
Doctor  Clarke's  address  with  the  spiritual  life  that  Edward 
Irving  stood  for.  The  effect  of  that  address  never  left  me. 
As  I  write  these  words,  I  can  see  him  as  he  stood  in  the  church 
that  night,  his  quick,  short  sentences,  his  enunciation  rapid 
at  times,  his  peculiarity,  or  rather  individuality  of  style,  that 
awakened  and  sustained  interest  in  what  he  had  said  or  was 
saying,  and  in  expectation  of  what  he  was  about  to  say. 

"I  may  be  permitted  in  this  connection  to  say,  that  years 
afterward  I  heard  another  address  by  him  at  the  Baptist 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  123 

church,  on  one  Sunday  morning,  which  made  ahnost  as 
strong  an  impression  as  the  one  to  which  I  have  referred.  It 
was  on  George  Fox,  and  as  I  Listened  I  could  not  help  but 
recall  the  one  on  Edward  Irving,  nor  could  I  escape  connect- 
ing the  two  in  my  mind.  As  I  look  back  over  the  years  that  I 
have  known  Doctor  Clarke,  and  consider  the  work  he  has 
done,  and  reflect  upon  his  writings,  I  can  readily  understand 
how  such  spiritual  forces  as  those  represented  in  the  lives  of 
Edward  Irving  and  George  Fox  should  have  had  great  influ- 
ence upon  him.  I  should  not  like  to  say  he  was  consciously 
influenced  by  them,  but  he  recognized  and  appreciated  their 
religious  values." 

The  practical  value  of  Doctor  Clarke's  books  was  soon 
recognized  by  persons  engaged  in  various  lines  of  religious  and 
social  work,  and  each  as  it  appeared  was  appropriated  to  use 
as  a  text-book.  An  instance  of  this  is  given  in  the  following 
extract  from  a  letter  of  Mrs.  James  C.  Park,  a  daughter  of 
his  early  friend,  Frances: 

"The  Reverend  Alfred  Burr,  pastor  of  the  Jefferson  Ave- 
nue Presbyterian  Church,  came  to  our  Home  and  Education 
Department  of  the  Twentieth  Century  Club,  one  day,  to  tell 
us  about  the  work  of  his  church  among  the  fifteen  thousand 
Italians  in  Detroit. 

"One  feature  was  the  night-school,  and  the  book  used  as 
a  text-book  at  that  time  was  Doctor  Clarke's  Can  I  Believe  in 
God  the  Father?  One  of  the  pupils  was  the  son  of  a  man  for- 
merly a  professor  in  the  University  of  Padua.  This  young 
man  had  broken  with  the  church  and  was  drifting  in  atheism 
when  Doctor  Clarke's  book  answered  his  questions  and 
brought  light  and  courage  to  his  soul. 

"I  had  the  great  pleasure  of  speaking  to  Doctor  Burr 
after  the  meeting  and  telling  him  I  knew  Doctor  Clarke  and 
would  let  him  know  of  the  work  he  was  doing  in  Detroit. 
They  used  the  book  partly  because  of  its  short  words  and 
clear  meaning." 

Of  Doctor  Clarke's  last  address  she  wrote: 

"I  cannot  tell  you  how  rejoicing  and  helpful  the  beautiful 
address  on  'Immortality'  was  and  is  to  me. 


124  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

"When  it  came  I  sat  down  and  read  it  through,  and  it 
was  the  greatest  comfort  to  know  that  Doctor  Clarke  believed 
so  thoroughly  in  immortality.  It  has  made  such  a  differ- 
ence in  my  life  that  I  feel  as  if  I  must  tell  everybody  I  know 
the  good  news. 

"W^hen  Sophie  and  I  were  spending  those  beautiful  days 
with  you  and  Doctor  Clarke  in  Hamilton,  we  walked  down 
with  him  to  the  post-office.  He  was  on  his  way  to  the  train, 
but  looking  at  his  watch  found  he  had  time  to  inquire  after 
a  sick  friend.  He  threw  his  travelling-bag  at  the  foot  of  a 
tree  in  the  park  with  the  most  trustful  and  nonchalant  air  in 
the  world,  and  when  we  laughingly  suggested  that  it  might 
not  be  there  when  he  returned,  he  said  he  did  not  think  any 
one  in  Hamilton  would  take  it." 

From  Mrs.  Louise  Palmer  Smith: 

"In  the  family  connection  Doctor  Clarke,  to  the  young 
folks,  was  'Uncle  Will' — true  native  American,  quaint  New 
Englander,  alive  to  the  humor  that  underlies  life,  able  to  en- 
joy it  and  show  it  forth  in  his  home  circle.  Nephews  and 
nieces  were  rife  there,  and  they  loved  to  linger  beside  him. 
A  letter  from  Uncle  Will  was  bright  hterature,  and  every 
line  worth  keeping.  As  a  model  of  quiet  good  company  for 
all  ages  he  had  few  equals. 

"Immortality  was  the  theme  of  Uncle  Will's  last  pub- 
lished message,  but  to  us  of  the  family  nothing  written  or 
spoken  could  convey  the  certainty  of  that  vast  truth  like  his 
own  presence  as  he  neared  the  end  of  his  stay.  The  old 
house  of  the  soul,  worn  to  the  uttermost,  showed  the  spirit 
within  of  such  strength  unabated — so  shining  that  the  as- 
surance rose  in  all  our  minds:  'Here  is  an  immortal.'  " 

From  Doctor  Walter  Rauschenbusch : 

"Pauline  and  I  have  often  spoken  of  you  since  we  learned 
of  the  passing  of  our  dear  friend.  He  will  be  a  dear,  warm 
memory  all  our  life,  one  of  the  high  peaks  in  our  horizon  of 
life.  Such  a  sincere,  genuine,  beautiful  human  soul !  I  am 
not  aware  of  thinking  of  him  at  all  differently  than  formerly. 
I  can  imagine  him  walking  along  in  heaven  with  the  same 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  125 

smile  and  the  same  gentle  limp,  and  an  ornament  to  the  place 
just  as  he  is." 

From  a  letter  from  Mr.  Charles  Scribner: 

"Among  all  the  authors  for  whom  it  has  been  my  privi- 
lege to  publish  I  can  remember  none  who  has  left  a  clearer 
impression,  and  I  think  this  was  due  to  a  certain  simplicity 
of  nature  and  character.  He  evidently  cared  little  or  noth- 
ing for  the  material  result  of  his  work  but  did  enjoy  givmg 
expression  to  what  he  hoped  might  prove  useful  and  profit- 
able to  others.  His  noticeable  courtesy  and  consideration 
also  gave  distinction  to  every  interview." 

From  President  John  M.  Thomas  of  Middlebury  College: 

"One  summer  in  the  nineties  I  took  passage  on  the  old 
White  Star  Germanic  for  Liverpool.  On  the  passenger-list  I 
noted  the  name  *W.  N.  Clarke'— no  reverend,  doctor,  or  pro- 
fessor. I  surmised  that  my  fellow  passenger  might  be  the  Col- 
gate Seminary  professor  of  theology,  whose  Outlitie  of  Christian 
Theology  had  won  wide  approval  in  the  religious  world  and 
which  had  been  exerting  a  much-needed  steadying  influence 
on  my  own  thinking  and  preaching.  Not  many  hours  out  I 
verified  my  suspicion  and  was  met  most  graciously  and  gen- 
erously. We  becam^I  felt— close  friends,  and  on  the  roll- 
ing Httle  ship  held  many  hours  of  real  fellowship.  He  in- 
creased my  confidence  in  myself  and  made  me  feel  strong  and 
hopeful.  One  day  we  talked  of  sermon  topics,  and  he  said  it 
was  a  surprise  to  him  that  ministers  chose  so  many  subjects 
people  did  not  care  anything  about,  when  there  were  so  many 
religious  matters  in  which  they  were  keenly  interested.  I 
got  out  my  pencil,  and  the  result  was  a  series  of  sermons  all 
through  the  next  winter  on  'Questions  People  Are  Inter- 
ested In  '  This  proved  to  be  a  very  stimulating  point  ot 
view,  and  I  am  sure  Doctor  Clarke's  suggestion  did  much  to 
give  reality  and  definiteness  to  my  preaching.  ^ 

"That  was  just  like  him— always  helping  some  beginner 
with  sane  and  sensible  advice.  Before  that  voyage  was  half 
over  he  was  chaplain  of  the  ship.  I  can  remember  his  address 
Sunday  evening,  holding  on  to  a  column  as  the  old  Germanic 


126  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

rolled — we  were  all  on  a  greater  voyage,  in  a  good  ship,  and 
would  be  likely  to  make  port  safely  if  we  attended  strictly  to 
our  work. 

"Our  friendship  was  renewed  from  time  to  time — in  New 
York,  in  Florida.  Always  he  was  the  same  kind,  stimulating 
adviser,  never  claiming  superior  u-isdom,  getting  at  the  heart 
of  a  problem  and  advancing  to  the  right  solution  by  fair  esti- 
mate of  every  consideration.  I  reviewed  several  of  his  books 
for  various  publications  and  kept  in  touch  with  everything 
he  wrote.  He  advised  me  kindly  and  generously  from  time 
to  time. 

"Doctor  Clarke  performed  a  unique  service  in  American 
theology  in  the  last  decade  of  the  nineteenth  century  and  the 
first  years  of  the  twentieth.  On  the  one  hand,  he  promoted  a 
cordial  attitude  toward  the  newer  forms  of  faith,  and  on  the 
other  he  exerted  a  patient,  restraining  influence  on  those 
who  were  inclined  to  go  too  fast  and  too  far.  I  know  of  no 
English-speaking  teacher  of  religion  who  in  this  particular 
field  did  so  much  to  steady  men  in  the  essentials  of  evangeli- 
cal faith." 

From  a  letter  of  J.  Brierly  to  T.  H.  Marshall  this  para- 
graph is  quoted  as  an  illustration  of  the  way  in  which  Doctor 
Clarke's  personality  was  felt  by  many  of  his  readers. 

"As  to  Doctor  Clarke  one  felt  the  man  all  over  in  his 
books.  One  might,  I  should  think,  say  of  him:  'In  jeder 
Aeusserung  steckt  der  ganze  Mensch.'  He  must  have  been 
entirely  lovable." 

The  same  feeling  is  expressed  in  a  letter  to  a  missionary 
from  Lieutenant  Masuro  Kako  of  the  Japanese  Imperial  Navy. 

"I  have  already  read  more  than  two-thirds  of  Clarke's 
Theology,  which  has  proved  extremely  interesting  to  me.  It 
is  a  source  of  profound  satisfaction  to  me  that  I  could  find  a 
genuine  friend  in  Doctor  Clarke.  He  seems  to  express  what 
I  feel  and  experience,  though  I  am  greatly  inferior  to  him  in 
many  respects.  Sometimes  I  forget  that  I  am  reading  that 
book  and  feel  the  direct  warm  touch  of  two  hearts  in  the 
depths  of  my  soul." 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS  127 

When  the  breaking  up  of  the  house  on  College  Hill  in 
Hamilton,  in  October,  19 13,  had  reached  the  chaotic  stage 
a  box  with  the  cover  nailed  down  came  to  light.  In  this  box 
were  letters  from  Doctor  Clarke  to  his  wife,  before  their  mar- 
riage, which  had  been  hastily  placed  there  when  closets  and 
drawers  were  being  emptied  for  the  use  of  temporary  occu- 
pants of  the  home,  and  also  some  letters  from  Doctor  Clarke 
to  his  sister  Mary,  written  at  various  periods  in  his  life. 
These  letters  have  proven  of  the  utmost  value  in  determin- 
ing dates  and  in  recalling  half-forgotten  events.  Many  let- 
ters which  Doctor  Clarke  had  written  to  his  wife  and  her 
letters  to  him  had  been  destroyed  long  before.  During  the 
years  spent  in  the  house  on  the  hill  a  large  and  growing  accu- 
mulation of  Doctor  Clarke's  sermons,  addresses,  published 
writings  scattered  through  various  periodicals,  pamphlets, 
clippings,  interesting  letters  from  men  engaged  in  lines  of 
work  bearing  upon  theology,  and  letters  of  friendship,  lay  in 
a  low  closet  under  the  attic  roof.  Now  and  then  this  closet 
was  emptied  for  cleaning  and  the  contents  dusted  and  re- 
turned to  their  resting-place.  Upon  such  occasions  Doctor 
Clarke  sometimes  became  aware  of  what  was  going  on,  made 
his  way  to  the  attic,  handled  and  examined  things  a  little, 
and  ended  by  saying  that  those  old  sermons  and  addresses 
ought  to  be  burned. 

Doctor  Clarke  did  not  intend  to  leave  behind  him  data 
of  any  kind  which  might  one  day  be  exploited  as  material 
for  a  biography,  perhaps  by  some  one  who  never  knew  him 
and  could  not  possibly  use  it  understandingly.  He  had  seen 
in  notable  instances  how  false  an  impression  can  be  made 
by  letters  and  diaries,  even  when  handled  by  intimate  friends, 
honestly  desiring  to  present  an  exact  and  truthful  record. 
For  this  reason  he  had  requested  his  sister  to  bum  all  of  his 
letters  to  her  and  she  had  done  so. 

There  came  a  day  in  the  summer  of  19 10  when  it  was  de- 
cided that  these  things  ought  to  be  destroyed  at  once.    The 


128  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

closet  was  emptied  and  its  contents  burned.  Only  a  few 
note-books,  brief  diaries,  and  such  notes  and  tjpewritten 
work  as  were  likely  to  be  of  use  later,  which  were  kept  in  the 
study  and  the  closet  adjoining,  were  retained.  All  of  the 
unpublished  work  of  his  earlier  years  and  of  his  middle  life 
vanished  in  an  hour. 

This  biography  is,  therefore,  of  a  different  character  from 
that  which  might  have  been  made  had  the  data  been  kept 
which  showed  almost  the  whole  of  Doctor  Clarke's  history  as 
a  student  and  his  personal  relations  with  other  writers  whose 
spirit  and  aims  were  akin  to  his  own. 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS 


By  Reverend  William  O.  Stearns 


As  I  look  back  over  the  past  I  realize  afresh  that  my  re- 
lations with  Doctor  Clarke  were  almost  entirely  of  a  per- 
sonal nature.  Only  once  did  we  come  into  ofi&cial  relations. 
What  I  would  like  to  record  therefore  must  be  necessarily 
in  the  realm  wherein  the  personal  atmosphere  presides.  For 
that  reason  to  some  readers,  especially  those  who  seek  for 
the  origin  and  growth  of  his  theological  behefs,  there  will  be 
but  little  of  interest  in  my  contribution;  while  to  others, 
the  story  of  a  personal  friendship  will  be  the  more  attractive. 

One  of  my  memories  is  associated  with  the  closing  service 
of  my  father's  pastorate  of  the  Newton  Center  Baptist 
Church.  It  was  held  in  the  old  wooden  structure  long  since 
displaced  by  the  impressive  pile  of  stone  in  which  the  con- 
gregation worships  to-day.  It  must  have  been  in  the  year 
1869,  and  I  was  in  my  thirteenth  year.  A  little  later,  one 
Saturday  afternoon,  a  tall  man  came  to  stay  with  us  over 
Sunday.  He  was  somewhat  spare,  bright-cheeked,  clear-eyed, 
with  black,  wavy  hair.  To  my  boyish  fancy,  his  tallness, 
fresh  cheeks,  wavy  black  hair,  and  clear  eyes  form  that  first 
picture  of  Doctor  Clarke.  I  do  not  recall  very  much  about 
his  pulpit  presence  then,  except  his  personal  appearance. 
What  he  said,  how  he  preached,  and  how  his  pastorate  pro- 
gressed have  left  only  vague  impressions.  What  it  really  was 
may  be  simimed  up  in  one  of  the  statements  that  have  been 
retained  in  memory  when  overhearing  Doctor  Hovey  say  to 
my  father:  "Mr.  Clarke  gets  out  of  a  text  about  all  the 
meat  there  is  in  it."     Those  were  days  when  people  were  sup- 

129 


130  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

posed  to  do  just  that  if  they  could.  People  went  to  church 
to  hear  the  gospel  preached,  as  expounded  by  a  text  of  Scrip- 
ture. Preachers  were  judged  by  their  exegetical  ability. 
Exegesis  was  a  sine  qua  non  in  efficiency.  Men  were  con- 
verted according  to  the  exposition  of  the  Scriptures  and  the 
obedience  rendered  to  the  truth.  The  discussion  of  ques- 
tions of  the  day,  political,  social,  or  moral,  was  quite  foreign 
to  the  scope  of  the  preaching.  Reading  occasionally  one  of 
my  father's  sermons,  I  am  struck  by  this  characteristic  of 
the  preaching. 

His  pastorate  moved  quietly  and  steadily  on  at  Newton 
Center  until  the  winter  of  the  great  revival.  This  was  the 
crisis  in  my  own  life,  and  brought  me  with  a  great  many 
others  into  the  personal  relation  of  shepherd  and  sheep.  It 
was  occasioned  by  a  fatal  accident  during  the  midwinter 
college  vacation  of  1873.  The  oldest  son  of  Professor  Heman 
Lincoln  was  at  home  from  BrowTi  University,  and  the  coast- 
ing on  Institution  Hill,  crowned  by  the  seminary  buildings, 
was  exceptionally  fine.  The  narrow  coasting  track  at  the 
side  of  the  road  was  very  hard,  and  icy  in  places.  The  sled 
slewed  while  going  at  Kghtning  speed  and  the  boys  were 
hurled  off,  Allan  Lincoln  being  thrown  against  a  tree  and 
instantly  killed.  He  was  the  only  one  of  the  four  young  men 
on  the  sled  who  was  a  Christian,  both  by  profession  and  life. 
This  fact  was  so  used  by  the  divine  Spirit  that  the  whole  com- 
munity was  moved  as  it  never  had  been  before  nor  has  since. 
There  was  no  excitement  in  the  meetings  held,  nor  in  the  tone 
of  the  preaching.  There  were  no  sensational  efforts  to  secure 
conversions,  but  there  was  not  a  home  unvisited.  Men, 
women,  young  men,  young  women,  and  children  came  to 
Christ.  Nearly  every  one  in  the  village  and  vicinity  not 
identified  with  the  churches,  our  own  Baptist  Church  and 
the  Congregationalist,  of  which  the  well-loved  Doctor  D.  L. 
Furber  was  pastor,  found  the  Lord,  and  found  the  way  into 
the  fellowship  of  the  church,  and  a  beginning  was  made  for 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS  131 

what  is  now  a  prosperous  Methodist  church.  Doctor  Clarke 
was  indefatigable  in  his  faithful  efforts.  The  quiet,  scholarly- 
life  found  a  new  avenue  for  expression.  Those  of  us  who 
were  baptized  at  that  time,  the  spring  and  summer  of  1873, 
will  never  forget  what  he  was  to  us.  We  were  of  all  walks 
of  life,  of  all  grades  of  educational  advantages,  and  I  had  al- 
most said,  of  all  ages  (and  I  believe  that  is  true,  too),  yet  our 
relations,  moulded  and  developed  by  him,  were  of  an  absolute 
equality  in  Christ.  A  young  people's  meeting  was  organ- 
ized, not  as  a  society  but  as  a  meeting  of  young  Christian 
converts,  working  thus  together  to  gain  Christian  experience 
themselves  and  to  help  other  young  people  to  know  and 
serve  the  Lord.  In  all  this  work  of  preparation  for  a  growing 
Christian  life.  Doctor  Clarke's  hand  was  plainly  felt,  while 
he  quietly  kept  himself  in  the  background,  leaving  the  young 
Christians  to  lead  on,  while  he  led  himself  unknown  to  them. 
There  are  only  a  few  remaining  now  in  the  membership  of  the 
Newton  Center  Church,  who  crowded  its  gates  in  those  days, 
but  those  few  have  ideals  of  Christian  reality  that  were  sown 
in  the  years  from  '73  to  '76  under  Doctor  Clarke's  preaching 
and  leadership. 

It  is  unnecessary  to  describe  his  relations  with  the  faculty 
of  the  institution,  his  acquaintance  with  brother  pastors  in 
the  neighboring  city  of  Boston,  his  delight  in  the  fellowship 
of  all  students  of  the  Scriptures,  and  the  effect  upon  himself, 
for  he  has  told  us  of  that  himself  in  his  Sixty  Years  Willi  the 
Bible.  These  relations  were  brotherly  in  the  truest  meaning 
of  the  word.  My  feeling  for  him  was  that  for  a  lovable  Chris- 
tian pastor,  not  far  away  from  me  nor  yet  very  near.  That 
closer  relationship  was  still  in  the  future.  Our  pastor  was 
our  pastor — never  hail-fellow-well-met,  nor  one  of  the  boys, 
as  the  ideal  of  to-day  demands,  but  our  pastor,  our  religious 
teacher  and  friend  toward  whom  we  looked  with  respect  and 
reverence.  We  never  dreamed  of  criticising  him  nor  of  ques- 
tioning his  opinions.     We  sat  at  his  feet  as  learners  in  the 


132  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

great  book  of  God's  love,  and  he,  as  the  good  scribe,  brought 
forth  for  us  ** things  new  and  old"  for  our  ''edification." 

A  dozen  years  later  it  was  my  privilege  to  be  ordained  to 
the  Christian  ministry,  and  to  serve  as  pastor  of  the  Caze- 
novia  Village  Baptist  Church  at  Cazenovia,  New  York. 
This  was  the  church  which  Doctor  Clarke's  father  served  as 
pastor  for  twenty-five  years.  It  was  the  church  into  whose 
membership  he  had  been  baptized  by  his  father;  the  church 
in  which  his  own  Christian  life  had  begun  growing;  the 
church  which  Hcensed  him  to  exercise  his  gifts  in  preaching 
the  gospel;  the  church  from  which  he  had  gone  to  college 
at  Hamilton,  New  York,  then  Madison  University.  Singu- 
larly enough,  I  had  never  heard  him  mention  his  home  in 
New  York  State,  and  until  I  went  to  Cazenovia  to  supply 
the  pulpit  for  a  few  Sundays  in  July,  1884, 1  did  not  know  that 
Doctor  Clarke  had  ever  seen  Cazenovia,  nor  that  there  was 
such  a  place  upon  the  map.  It  was  not,  therefore,  through 
his  influence  that  I  became  his  mother's  pastor,  for  Mrs. 
Clarke  was  still  living,  at  a  good  old  age,  his  father  having 
died  a  number  of  years  before  this.  He  was  wont  to  refer 
to  this  singular  relation,  he  having  been  my  father's  pastor 
and  now  I  had  become  his  mother's  pastor. 

He  came  and  spent  a  good  portion  of  the  next  summer 
with  his  mother,  in  his  sister's  home,  and  often  after  that, 
during  the  nine  years  of  my  stay  in  Cazenovia,  he  was  there 
for  visits  of  varying  length.  Of  all  that  period  I  want  to  say 
that  the  one  word,  "encourager,"  covers  the  full  relation. 
He  never  imposed  his  opinions,  his  views,  his  decisions  upon 
mine.  He  always  encouraged.  Once  he  said:  "I  never 
could  have  preached  a  sermon  like  that  you  preached  this 
morning  when  I  first  went  to  Newton  Center.  People  were 
not  ready  to  listen  to  that  view  then."  Once  I  had  written  a 
sermon  on  the  "Resurrection  of  the  Dead,"  and  he  asked  me 
to  read  it  to  him.  I  did  so,  and  his  comment  was:  "Try 
again  ten  years  from  now.     It  will  do  to  keep  and  revise." 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS  133 

Gradually  I  came  to  refer  any  extra  writing  in  the  way  of 
addresses,  essays,  or  expositions  of  Scripture  to  him,  and  sev- 
eral lectures  prepared  for  the  theological  students  at  Ham- 
ilton were  offered  for  his  approval  before  being  read.  The 
reason  for  it  all  is  plain.  He  always  encouraged,  never  dis- 
couraged. The  quality  of  his  friendship  placed  us  in  the 
same  group  of  workers.  We  were  together,  working  out  the 
same  problems,  possessed  of  the  same  spirit.  The  only  dif- 
ference was  length  of  service.  Seeking  the  same  ends,  only 
encouragement  was  worthy  of  his  delicately  tempered  spirit. 
"What  is  new?  What  is  fresh?  "  was  the  first  question  with 
him.  It  mattered  but  little  from  what  source  the  informa- 
tion came.  It  is  God's  universe.  We  are  in  it  with  him. 
Hence  news  from  Him  is  always  first  and  foremost  in  impor- 
tance. To  encourage  the  seeker;  to  inspire  him  to  seek,  and 
to  seek  and  report  his  findings — this  was  the  spirit  of  his 
friendship.  Of  what  use  to  tell  of  one's  failures,  one's  feeble 
efforts,  one's  infantile  attempts?  He  knew  well  that  most 
of  them  were  such;  but  he  never  even  intimated  the  fact. 
He  was  too  great-hearted  to  do  so.  The  mark  of  true  great- 
ness is  known — to  uplift.  Doctor  Clarke  possessed  this 
p)ower  in  a  remarkable  degree.  His  power  of  encouragement 
was  such  that  discouragements  were  lost  sight  of  in  the  en- 
couragement with  which  one  left  his  presence.  I  can  give 
no  better  illustration  of  this  dominating  characteristic  in  his 
personality  than  this  quotation  from  his  last  letter  to  me, 
dated  De  Land,  Florida,  December  31,  191 1.  "Your  Bible 
card  has  come  to  hand  and  tells  a  good  story  of  endeavor  on 
your  part.  May  it  prove  a  great  help  to  all  concerned,  and 
may  the  new  year  bring  you  strength  to  labor  and  a  clear 
head  to  see  your  way,  and  a  brave  heart  for  bright  days  and 
dark,  and  success  in  your  life  undertaking  that  will  satisfy 
your  best  desires.  Isn't  that  a  wish  that  covers  a  good  share 
of  the  ground?  "  That  was  the  last  message,  and  it  covered 
not  only  all  the  future  of  the  year  of  which  he  was  thinking, 


134  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

but  also  was  typical  of  his  feeling  during  all  the  past.  He 
was  one  of  God's  own  apostles  whose  benediction  abides  with 
one  always,  and  makes  appropriate  the  closing  sentence  of 
this  last  letter — ''Grace  be  with  you  and  mercy  and  peace. 
Amen." 

It  has  been  a  privilege  unsought,  but  very  much  appre- 
ciated, to  have  known  personally,  and  through  the  friend- 
ship of  my  father's  contemporaries,  many  of  the  leading 
thinkers,  preachers,  educators,  and  missionaries  of  our  de- 
nomination. The  home  at  Newton  Center  was  always  open 
to  them,  and  they  failed  not  to  enjoy  its  hospitahty.  The 
anniversary  seasons  of  the  Theological  Institution  brought 
them  together.  Most  of  them  have  slept  under  our  roof 
and  have  been  entertained  at  our  table.  There  could  be 
seen  Martin  B.  Anderson,  George  D.  Boardman,  Rollin  H. 
Neale,  Doctor  J.  G.  Warren,  and  later.  Doctor  Murdock, 
Doctor  G.  D.  B.  Pepper,  Doctor  Ebenezer  Dodge,  Thomas 
D.  Anderson,  Doctor  J.  T.  Champlin,  and  many  returning 
alumni.  Our  side  piazzas  furnished  splendid  opportunity 
for  renewing  cherished  memories  of  the  old  days  of  New- 
ton. As  I  call  the  roll  to-night,  in  memory  I  see  those 
men  to  whom  our  denomination  owes  much,  and  bring  to 
mind  their  faces,  as  they  came  in  with  one  or  more  of  the 
professors  of  the  institution:  Doctor  Hovey,  Doctor  Lin- 
coln, Doctor  Galusha  Anderson,  Doctor  E.  P.  Gould,  or 
later  Doctor  S.  L.  Caldwell.  There  was  a  quality  in  their 
fellowship  which  owed  its  origin  to  the  controlling  presence 
of  a  great  purpose.  They  were  engaged  in  a  great  work,  the 
greatest  of  all  endeavor.  No  one  of  them  had  the  least  doubt 
that  the  ministry  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was  the  greatest 
work  in  the  world.  No  other  calling  was  to  be  compared  with 
it.  It  overtopped  them  all  as  Mount  Washington  rises  above 
all  surrounding  summits.  They  were  idealistic.  The  blight 
of  materialism  had  not  injured  their  sensitive  appreciation 
of  high  and  holy  purposes.    To  think  high  thoughts  of  God 


PERSONAL  RECOLLECTIONS 


135 


and  of  the  redemption  wrought  by  God  in  his  Son,  Jesus 
Christ,  for  the  world;  to  present  these  thoughts  in  the  clear- 
est and  most  finished  forms  of  language,  for  most  preachers 
read  their  sermons  then;  to  teach  other  men  to  improve  on 
the  best  they  had  done,  was  their  life.  The  preacher  was  a 
king.  His  pulpit  was  his  throne,  from  which  he  declared 
the  truths  made  known  to  him  by  the  King  of  Kings,  The 
preachers  of  that  time  considered  no  comparison  between 
themselves  in  their  work  and  the  lawyer,  the  physician,  the 
officials  of  the  government,  not  even  the  President  in  the 
White  House.  It  was  an  atmosphere  of  idealism,  so  differ- 
ent from  the  atmosphere  of  the  present  day  that  the  contrast 
should  be  noted.  Those  days  have  passed  away,  and  with 
them  the  sensitiveness  to  such  great  and  compelling  ideals. 
The  idealism  of  the  present  appears  in  other  forms,  perhaps 
more  practical,  certainly  not  so  upHfting.  Doctor  Clarke 
was  the  finished  product  of  the  best  of  them  all.  In  him 
their  best  thoughts  came  to  their  more  perfect  expression. 
Their  experiences  of  Christian  minister  and  teacher  united 
in  his,  and  he  worked  them  out  under  the  larger  life  experi- 
ence possible  in  a  later  period.  Some  one  has  called  him  a 
great  mystic — a  true  description  when  considered  not  in  the 
technical  sense  of  the  word.  He  was  a  great  mystic  as  the 
apostle  John  was.  The  thoughtful  mind  that  studies  the 
face,  and  catches  the  meaning  in  the  eyes  of  the  wonderful 
portrait  with  which  his  friends  at  Hamilton  are  so  familiar, 
reverently,  yet  gratefully  feels  that  to  know  him  was  to 
know  one  who  knew  God,  whom  God  knew  so  well  that  he 
could  make  him  the  mouthpiece  of  his  great  message  of  love. 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP 

By  Professor  J.  W.  A.  Stewart,  D.D. 

In  inviting  me  to  contribute  to  this  volume  Mrs.  Clarke 
has  requested  that  I  tell  something  of  Doctor  Clarke's  ca- 
reer in  Canada,  and  still  more  of  what  he  was  to  me  as  friend 
and  helper.  Out  of  the  correspondence  between  Doctor 
Clarke  and  myself  I  preserved  twenty-six  letters,  which  are 
still  in  my  possession.  The  first  of  these  letters  is  dated 
February  28,  1881.  Doctor  Clarke  was  at  that  time  pastor 
of  the  Olivet  Baptist  Church,  Montreal,  Canada.  I  have 
read  these  letters  again  and  I  am  greatly  impressed  by  them. 
Probably  all  of  Doctor  Clarke's  correspondents  would  agree 
that  he  was  one  of  the  best  letter-writers  of  this  modern 
time.  In  his  letters  he  gave  himself  and  the  best  that  was 
in  him  without  stint.  One  letter  after  another  of  those  in 
my  possession  might  be  printed  almost  as  it  stands,  and 
many  would  read  it  with  eagerness.  A  letter  from  him  was 
no  merely  conventional  affair.  By  his  letters  he  made  you 
live  and  talk  with  him  and  read  his  very  heart.  The  same 
atmosphere  of  reality,  of  high  purpose,  of  unwavering  faith 
which  was  felt  in  his  preaching  and  is  manifest  in  his  books 
is  here  in  his  letters;  and,  in  addition,  there  is  always  the 
glow  of  warm  personal  friendship.  I  need  not  speak  of  his 
style,  for  every  friend  of  his  and  every  reader  of  his  books 
knows  the  quality  and  charm  of  it.  Nowhere  does  that 
quality  appear  to  better  advantage  than  in  his  letters,  and 
certainly  in  his  case  "the  style  is  the  man." 

It  is  time  now  to  say  something  about  the  beginnings  of 
our  friendship  and  the  cause  of  this  (to  me)  so  valuable 
correspondence.    Here  I  must  be  forgiven  for  a  personal  ref- 

136 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP  137 

erence.  This  reference  is  necessary  to  an  understanding  of 
what  Doctor  Clarke  was  to  me.  The  simple  truth  is  that, 
like  many  another  young  minister,  I  had  gotten  into  great 
trouble  of  mind.  As  I  look  back  through  a  little  more  than 
thirty  years,  the  causes  for  this  trouble  were  three  in  number. 
For  one  thing,  in  the  middle  seventies,  while  I  was  pursuing 
my  course  in  the  University  of  Toronto  the  materialistic  phi- 
losophy seemed  to  dominate  the  field.  Professor  Tyndall  gave 
his  famous  Belfast  address  in  1874,  and  one  could  hardly 
take  up  a  leading  review  in  those  days  without  coming  across 
an  article  which  cut  away  the  roots  of  religion.  For  a  young 
person  who  read  and  tried  to  think,  faith  had  a  difficult 
time.  I  was  held  to  a  theistic  belief  and  the  freedom  of  the 
will  and  the  eternal  reality  of  moral  distinctions  by  a  profes- 
sor of  philosophy  of  quite  unusual  power,  the  late  George 
Paxton  Young,  but  many  interrogation-points  dotted  my 
field  of  vision. 

For  another  thing,  I  had  been  reared  in  a  pretty  stiff  type 
of  Calvinism  and  a  rather  narrow  type  of  evangelicalism. 
As  I  view  it  now,  the  dogmatic  interest  was  paramount  all 
through  my  early  training.  The  ethical  interest,  so  far  as 
doctrines  were  concerned,  was  not  denied;  it  was  ignored. 
Strong  doctrines  concerning  the  relations  between  God  and 
man  could  be  discussed  and  afl5rmed  with  little  or  no  refer- 
ence to  the  bearing  of  those  doctrines  upon  the  character  of 
God  or  the  actual  moral  agency  of  man.  I  recall  discussions 
about  election  which  simply  meant  that  God  was  a  despot 
and  man  a  mere  tool  or  thing.  A  doctrine  of  future  punish- 
ment was  held  which  was,  to  say  the  least,  immoral.  The 
doctrine  of  the  atonement  was  mechanical.  The  whole 
scheme  of  doctrine,  so  far  as  my  apprehension  of  it  went,  was 
mechanical,  external,  arbitrary;  it  lacked  reality;  it  did  not 
appeal  to  the  reason  and  the  conscience.  This  tremendous 
moral  interest  which  we  feel  to-day,  this  significance  of  the 
human  personality — these  were  not  in  the  atmosphere  which 


I3S  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

surrounded  me  in  my  earlier  years.  I  freely  admit  that  this 
judgment  may  need  some  qualification,  that  it  is  due  in  part 
to  my  own  immaturity  at  the  time  to  which  it  refers,  my 
inability  to  estimate  and  to  appreciate  the  teachings  to  which 
I  listened  and  under  whose  influence  I  came.  In  the  later 
seventies  an  earnest  and  wide-spread  discussion  arose  con- 
cerning future  punishment.  Farrar's  sermons  on  "Eternal 
Hope"  had  been  preached;  an  extensive  literature  on  the 
subject  sprang  into  being;  one  might  hear  learned  discus- 
sions on  it  an  hour,  two  hours,  in  length.  Meanwhile  my 
o\Mi  ethical  interest  had  been  awakened.  And  so  I  got  into 
trouble.  It  was  the  not  uncommon  experience  of  a  young 
minister  whose  training  in  theological  thinking  had  been 
limited  finding  himself  unable  to  make  doctrines  he  was  sup- 
posed to  hold  harmonize  with  what  he  felt  to  be  the  ethical 
demand.  And  of  course  the  ethical  demand  is  supreme. 
No  doctrine  can  be  held  in  face  of  the  protest  of  the  moral 
nature. 

A  third  factor  entered  into  the  situation.  I  had  already 
been  ordained  and  was  pastor  of  a  church.  I  now  supposed 
that  a  Baptist  minister  was  in  honor  bound  to  stand  not  only 
for  certain  doctrines  but  also  for  certain  modes  of  presenta- 
tion of  those  doctrines  which  I  felt  I  could  not  stand  for. 
No  one  can  complain  that  there  is  any  excessive  restraint  of 
liberty  in  Baptist  pulpits  to-day;  some  one  might  suggest 
that  there  is  danger  that  Hberty  may  be  abused.  But  thirty 
years  have  witnessed  a  change.  At  the  time  to  which  I  refer 
the  roominess  was  not  so  manifest.  And  so  I  thought  that  I 
must  leave  my  church  and  my  pulpit. 

And  now  it  was  that  my  acquaintance  and  friendship 
with  Doctor  Clarke  began.  A  parishioner  of  his  and  friend 
of  mine  who  had  learned  of  my  trouble  and  had  recognized 
something  unusual  in  his  pastor  asked  him  to  write  to  me. 
This  he  did,  and  so  before  we  had  met  we  were  already  in 
the  midst  of  a  lively  correspondence.     I  do  not  propose  to 


THE   STORY  OF  A   FRIENDSHIP  139 

give  here  a  detailed  account  of  our  correspondence,  but  only 
to  tell  how  Doctor  Clarke  helped  me,  and  to  quote  here  and 
there  a  seLf-reveaHng  sentence  from  his  letters.  To  this  I  must 
add  something  more  about  him  as  friend  and  companion, 
and  I  must  tell  of  his  work  and  influence  in  Canada. 

Already  I  had  begun  to  feel  that  the  fundamental  ques- 
tion in  all  religious  thinking  is  the  question  as  to  the  char- 
acter of  God.  In  this  feeling  Doctor  Clarke  at  once  con- 
firmed me.  I  never  knew  a  man  who  seemed  more  sure  of 
God  and  of  his  ethical  quality  or  who  rejoiced  more  in  the 
thought  of  God.  The  character  of  God  was  dominant  in  all 
his  thinking;  that  character  could  never  for  a  moment  be 
compromised;  whatever  became  of  this  doctrine  or  that,  at 
any  rate  "God  is  hght,  and  in  him  is  no  darkness  at  all"  ; 
"God  is  love."  He  helped  me  to  beheve  these  things  about 
God  once  for  all.  As  it  seems  to  me  now,  it  was  my  first 
genuine,  vital,  intelligent  faith  in  God.  I  can  never  forget 
what  it  meant  to  me.  The  nightmare  of  a  divine  despot 
was  gone.  The  heart  of  the  universe  is  sound.  God  can  do 
no  wrong.  I  was  emancipated,  out  of  prison,  under  the  Hght 
of  the  sun,  breathing  the  pure,  open  air.  Always  with  the 
thought  of  God  which  I  cherish,  Doctor  Clarke  must  be 
closely  associated  as  the  one  who  helped  me  to  that  thought. 
In  addition  to  this  he  greatly  encouraged  me  in  the  belief  as 
to  the  right  of  the  individual  mind  to  do  its  own  thinking. 
It  had  appeared  to  me  in  my  still  earlier  years  that  there 
stood  a  fixed  body  of  doctrine,  and  that  to  bring  one's  own 
mind  to  bear  upon  it  and  to  hesitate  or  to  call  in  question  any 
part  was  a  serious,  if  not  dangerous,  thing.  Indeed,  there  were 
those  who  suggested  that  it  was  a  sort  of  calamity  for  one  to 
get  into  an  inquiring  mood.  Already,  however,  besides  Pro- 
fessor Young,  I  had  had  at  least  one  friend  and  teacher  who 
beheved  in  mental  independence.  And  now  Doctor  Clarke 
came  to  my  help,  and  instead  of  hinting  that  the  inquiring 
mood  was  to  be  shunned  he  represented  it  as  a  pressing  duty 


I40  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

and  as  the  mood  that  was  alone  worthy  of  a  man  constituted 
as  God  has  made  us.  Never  for  one  moment  did  he  lose  sight 
of  the  serious  interest  of  truth;  none  could  be  more  reverent 
than  he.  But  truth  could  vindicate  itself,  and  the  freest  in- 
quiry could  only  result  in  clearer  apprehension  and  increased 
conviction.  No  individual  or  set  of  individuals  of  the  past, 
much  as  we  owe  to  them,  had  ever  been  commissioned  of  God 
to  do  our  thinking  for  us.  The  New  Testament,  instead  of 
closing  the  door  against  thought,  really  opens  it.  "Come 
and  see"  is  the  Master's  summons.  In  encouraging  me  to 
independence  of  mind,  Doctor  Clarke  did  not  mean  that  I 
should  think  as  he  thought;  he  was  too  true  for  that;  he  really 
meant  that  I  should  think  for  myself  and  trust  my  own  work. 
No  man  could  have  a  truer  conception  of  personal  liberty. 
Through  my  acquaintance  with  him  I  learned  the  joy  of  intel- 
lectual freedom.  To  mention  one  thing  more,  he  helped  me 
to  see  that  the  Baptist  denomination  affords  more  room  for 
the  individual  mind  than  I  had  supposed,  that  personal  free- 
dom is  of  the  very  genius  of  the  Baptist  Churches.  Let  this 
not  be  misinterpreted.  There  is  not  a  single  radical  or  destruc- 
tive sentence  in  all  these  letters.  Edification,  clearer  apprehen- 
sion of  truth,  loyalty  to  Christ  are  in  every  line.  This  man 
was  in  dead  earnest.  His  sweat,  his  life's  blood  went  into  his 
work.  Truth  was  his  queen.  With  what  chivalry  and  devo- 
tion he  served  her !  Had  I  been  an  unbeliever  he  would  have 
told  me  at  once  that  I  was  out  of  place  in  a  Baptist  pulpit; 
but  because  I  believed  and  was  seeking  more  light  and  was 
striving  after  reality  he  told  me  to  stay  where  I  was,  that 
the  Baptist  Church  was  my  proper  home. 

And  now  for  the  letters  themselves.  In  the  first  of  them 
that  I  preserved  (February  28,  1881)  he  writes:  "I  have  been 
harder  at  work,  I  think,  than  I  ever  was  before  in  my  life." 
Again:  "Your  letter  was  sweet  to  my  soul.  Any  thought  of 
God  as  acting  out  himself,  his  own  right,  natural,  lovable, 
eternal  self,  in   the  work   by  which    he  approaches    us,    is 


THE   STORY  OF  A   FRIENDSHIP  141 

precious  to  me."    As  to  future  punishment,  he  has  this  to 
say:    "The  principle  of  hyper-Calvinism  is  the  only  valid 
foundation  for  a  doctrine  of  universal  salvation.     Calvinism 
in  its  extreme  form  reduces  all  the  action  of  the  universe  to 
action  of  God  himself,  and  leaves  room  for  only  a  single  will. 
Now  if  I  could  feel  that  to  be  true,  I  could  expect  that 
one  all-embracing  will  to  sweep  all  inferior  wills  along  to  the 
voluntary  fulfihnent  (so  far  as  such  fulfihnent  could  be  vol- 
imtary)  of  its  own  restorative  purpose.  .  .  .     For  myself  I 
believe  in  the  freedom  of  men,  and  so  I  see  my  way  clear  to 
the  natural  possibility  of  the  eternal  loss  of  the  soul."    He  is 
very  emphatic  about  man's  natural  constitution  as  being  in 
the  image  of  God.     And  here  is  a  guiding  principle  of  his 
Theology:   "True  living   is  imitation  of  God   (Eph.   5  :  i). 
The  principle  of  imitation  of  God  authorizes  us  to  judge  of 
what  God  is,  in  part  at  least  from  what  he  has  commanded 
us  to  be.  .  .  .    I  conceive  that  we  are  entitled  to  bear  this 
truth  as  a  torch  in  our  searching  for  the  meaning  of  what  God 
has  done  for  us.    It  cannot  serve  as  our  only  light,  but  it  will 
help  us  in  understanding  his  saving  work."    Here  follows  a 
paragraph  which  I  must  transcribe  in  full;  it  is  so  true  a  reve- 
lation of  the  man.     "When  I  come  to  that  work  itself,  the 
work  of  Christ,  I  cannot  help  you  as  much  as  I  wish  I  could, 
but  my  own  thinking  on  the  subject  has  not  been  in  vain  as 
it  seems  to  me.     After  having  always  had  an  unexplored 
region  in  the  heart  of  that  great  continent,  I  was  most  unex- 
pectedly compelled  to  go  exploring  a  year  or  two  ago.    One 
day  I  was  sent  in,  in  spite  of  myself,  to  find  what  I  could  in 
that  great  and  dimly  known  region.    For  months  I  was  at  it 
and  could  not  get  away.     I  was  not  in  a  revolutionary  mood, 
most  happily.    My  expedition  was  not  warUke.    As  I  went 
on,  truth  after  truth  seemed  to  open  to  me,  and  mistake 
after  mistake  of  my  previous  thinking  seemed  to  be  left  be- 
hind.   If  I  had  been  fighting  I  might  have  come  out  with  many 
a  wound;  but  this  was  a  work  of  discovery  and  I  saw  so  much 


142  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

that  was  glorious  that  what  had  to  be  rejected  fell  away 
easily  as  unworthy  to  remain  beside  the  newly  apprehended 
truth.  Perhaps  I  have  reached  wrong  conclusions  in  some 
things — if  I  have  I  pray  that  I  may  know  it — but  as  to  the 
general  principles  and  the  Hne  of  thinking  I  am  as  well  as- 
sured as  I  can  be  in  this  world  that  if  I  am  the  Lord's  I  shall 
go  on  thinking  in  the  same  way  forever.  I  have  no  complete 
theory,  but  that  my  general  view  of  the  work  of  Christ  is 
grounded  in  eternal  principles  I  am  entirely  sure."  He  then 
proposes  to  send  me  an  essay  he  had  written  on  "The  For- 
giveness of  Sin."  A  little  later  the  essay  came,  and  I  took  a 
copy  of  it.  That  essay  had  in  it  nearly  all  the  roots  of  his 
Theology,  and  his  Theology  is  well  known  on  both  sides  of 
the  Atlantic.  This  notable  letter  ends  thus:  *' God  bless  you, 
dear  brother,  and  enrich  your  soul  with  his  life-giving  truth. 
If  I  tell  you  anything  wrong  may  he  forgive  me,  and  keep 
your  soul  safe  from  my  errors.  Write  again  and  often."  In 
the  next  letter  (April  i8,  1881),  he  is  hard  at  work  on  the 
Commentary  (Mark).  He  refers  to  a  letter  of  F.  W.  Rob- 
ertson's in  which  he  (Robertson)  said  "that  without  doubt 
he  should  make  progress  in  the  apprehension  of  truth  and 
should  so  alter  and  correct  his  views,  but  he  felt  sure  that  all 
future  progress  would  be  in  the  general  direction  in  which 
he  had  already  been  moving."  Doctor  Clarke  goes  on:  "I 
have  had  the  same  feeling  very  strongly  about  my  own 
thinking,  that  in  obtaining  clearer  and  more  inspiring  \aews 
of  the  nature  of  God  and  his  relations  to  men  I  had  gained 
something  of  the  permanent  light  and  even,  as  I  felt,  of  the 
eternal  light;  and  that  though  I  might  go  on  learning  for- 
ever I  should  never  have  really  to  unlearn  some  of  these 
truths  that  have  been  made  plain  to  me.  ...  I  hope  to  see 
far  more  clearly  and  more  truly,  but  I  trust  that  I  see."  He 
tells  of  a  sermon  of  his  on  "  God  is  Light."  He  is  anxious  not 
to  be  regarded  as  heretical  because  he  wants  his  people  to 
know  the  glorious  character  of  God  "even  in  the  poor  degree 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP  143 

in  which  it  is  present  to  my  mind."  He  fears  that  a  Cana- 
dian council  (he  was  now  in  Canada)  might  refuse  to  ordain 
him  but  he  does  not  know  "by  what  divine  oracle  or  inspired 
Scripture  '  the  denomination '  was  constituted  the  infallible 
guide  for  your  thinking  or  mine."  "About  full  and  minute 
agreement  with  other  Baptists  I  do  not  trouble  myself  as 
much  as  some  might  think  I  ought,  for  I  know  that  any  re- 
ligious body  in  which  any  genuine  thinking  is  done  will  have 
its  divergences  and  must  expect  them.  ...  I  do  not  regard 
myself  as  a  champion  of  denominational  orthodoxy,  but  I  do 
regard  myself  as  a  Baptist  and  as  a  humble  champion  of  my 
Master's  truth."  Referring  to  the  doctrine  of  election,  he 
writes:  "Of  one  thing,  however,  I  am  certain — that  the 
truth  concerning  the  character  of  God,  and  the  relation  of 
that  character  to  man  and  to  redemption,  outranks  all  special 
interpretations  of  doctrine.  Truth  concerning  him  is  fun- 
damental, and  all  true  doctrine  rests  upon  it."  This  letter 
is  full  of  weighty  material  and  ends  with  these  warm  words: 
"Now  do  not  be  offended  because  I  have  punched  this  let- 
ter out  on  a  machine.  There  is  nothing  of  the  machine  vari- 
ety about  the  interest  I  feel  in  your  questionings  and  your 
progress  in  the  knowledge  of  truth.  .  .  .  My  heart  is  with 
you,  and  if  any  experience  of  mine  can  make  me  of  any  use 
to  you  I  am  only  too  glad.  Let  me  know  how  you  fare.  I 
wish  I  could  talk  with  you.  But  some  day  we  shall  have  our 
opportunity  face  to  face.  Meanwhile  may  our  Lord  lead  us 
both  nearer  to  himself  and  further  into  his  own  truth. 
Yours  with  all  my  heart." 

Later  on  a  letter  comes  discussing  the  question  of  the 
existence  of  evil,  immortality,  atonement.  His  \'iews  diflfer 
somewhat  from  those  ordinarily  held,  and  he  adds:  "I  hope 
I  am  not  intellectually  proud  in  these  matters — or  at  least  I 
pray  that  I  may  not  be  so.  I  desire  to  think  and  learn  in  the 
spirit  of  a  little  child.  But  I  can  see  some  things  in  only  one 
way  and  I  am  well  convinced  that  in  some  matters  I  shall 


144  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

not  see  differently  in  another  world,  excepting  more  clearly 
and  more  truly.  Some  things  that  you  and  I  were  brought 
up  on  are  destined  to  pass  away,  and  are  already  in  the  proc- 
ess, and  more  rational  and  profoundly  scriptural  ideas  are 
coming  in  their  place.  The  process  is  inevitable,  but  I  want 
to  hold  the  right  place  in  it,  chnging  to  all  that  is  true  and 
yielding  quickly  to  truth,  as  Augustine  says  {'cede  cito  veri- 
tati'),  in  all  matters  in  which  truth  is  presented  to  me."  His 
letters  show  how  unsatisfied  he  is  with  any  presentations  of 
Christian  doctrines  which  are  only  formal,  or  external  and 
mechanical,  how  bent  he  is  on  reality,  how  Christianity  must 
be  all  personal  between  God  and  man,  how  all  must  be  viewed 
in  the  light  of  God's  moral  perfection.  We  had  not  yet  seen 
each  other,  but  the  meeting  of  the  Baptist  Convention  in 
Montreal  in  October,  1881,  at  last  brought  us  together. 

In  subsequent  letters  Doctor  Clarke  sometimes  tells  about 
his  sermons  and  his  enjoyments  in  preaching,  and  there  is 
often  a  suggestive  or  stimulating  sentence  in  what  he  writes. 
There  must  have  been  a  large  amount  of  freshness  and  vital- 
ity in  his  preaching,  a  total  absence  of  platitude  and  of 
anything  stale  or  hackneyed.  For  example,  he  gives  a  most 
practical  sermon  on  ''Leaving  the  Church,"  showing  why  in- 
dividuals should  not  leave  it  for  insuJ05cient  cause.  Again: 
"I  am  going  into  some  sermons  of  instruction  on  less-studied 
parts  of  the  Scripture — ^Job,  Habakkuk,  Malachi — and  I  know 
not  what  else.  I  am  also  going  to  preach  a  sermon  or  two  on 
some  aspects  of  the  question  of  amusements.  I  am  full  now 
of  one  on  the  horribleness  of  amusing  or  gratifying  oneself 
at  the  expense  of  degradation  to  one's  fellow  beings,  a  sub- 
ject that  carries  a  wide  and  searching  application."  "I  had 
a  royal  time  Sunday  night,  in  the  rain,  before  a  handful  of 
people,  with  a  sermon  that  cost  no  special  expenditure  of 
time  whatever.  I  had  got  the  theme,  and  then  on  Saturday 
I  was  three-quarters  sick  and  had  all  I  could  do  to  get  through 
my  other  sermon.    So  this  was  ex  tempore  in  the  redeeming 


THE   STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP  145 

sense  that  it  sprang  from  a  long  course  of  time  and  thinking, 
and  sprang  up  quickly.  Such  an  experience  is  not  unpleas- 
ant now  and  then."  His  sermon  on  amusements  made  a  deep 
impression.  A  most  interesting  letter  has  this  paragraph, 
which  reveals  the  man  of  God:  "I  am  sending  you  a  wretch- 
edly poor  letter,  no  line  of  which,  as  far  as  it  has  to  do  with 
our  Master's  truth,  approaches  to  satisfying  me.  How  far 
above  me  does  his  truth  appear  when  once  I  endeavor  to 
give  it  form  in  word !  .  .  .  The  real  truth  is  of  a  high  and 
comprehensive  kind  and  is  to  be  reached  not  so  much  by 
close  analysis  and  exclusion  as  by  a  process  indescribable, 
with  which  the  heart  has  quite  as  much  to  do  as  the  intellect. 
...  It  is  an  experience  of  God,  and  the  more  fully  the  whole 
being  of  man  is  involved  in  that  experience  .  ,  .  the  more 
truly  and  justly  shall  we  know  the  truth  of  God."  I  preached 
to  my  people  three  or  four  sermons  on  the  atonement.  The 
manuscript  of  one  of  them  I  sent  to  Doctor  Clarke.  This 
brought  from  him  a  letter  of  four  typewritten  pages  of  large 
letter-paper  with  a  postscript  of  two  pages  more.  The  views 
he  expressed  are  well  known,  but  I  call  attention  to  the  sig- 
nificance of  this  letter  as  an  evidence  of  the  generosity  and 
brotherHness  of  Doctor  Clarke.  How  many  of  one's  dearest 
friends  would  take  the  time  and  trouble  to  write  such  a  let- 
ter!  The  essay  on  "The  Forgiveness  of  Sin"  already  re- 
ferred to  he  at  last  sends.  (It  had  been  doing  missionary 
work  elsewhere.)  "I  send  you  my  essay  with  this  condition 
expressed,  that  you  will  show  it  no  mercy.  If  I  thought  you 
had  the  faintest  idea  of  accepting  it  as  in  any  sense  an  author- 
ity to  your  mind,  or  as  anything  else  than  an  essay,  an  en- 
deavor after  truth,  not  complete,  and  faulty  enough,  you 
should  never  lay  hands  on  it.  Criticise  it,  and  cut  it  to  pieces 
and  reject  as  much  of  it  as  you  must,  and  use  it  as  a  help  to 
your  own  thinking." 

In  the  letters  which  follow  there  is  material  of  deep  in- 
terest regarding  books,  institutions,  church  work,  doctrinal 


146  WILLIA^I  NEWTON  CLARKE 

subjects,  men;  but  it  must  be  passed  by.  Brief  sentences 
here  and  there  are  self-revealing.  Referring  to  another's  ex- 
perience he  writes:  "This  is  a  queer  world,  and  sometimes  it 
seems  as  if,  in  proportion  to  the  space  it  contains,  there  was 
but  very  little  room  in  it."  Again:  ''I  have  come  to  feel  more 
and  more  that  'what  is  true  is  safe,'  and  that  what  I  can  spir- 
itually trust  as  true  will  not  lead  me  astray."  And  again: 
"But  it  grows  upon  me  that  the  subject  (the  work  of  Christ) 
is  to  be  more  or  less  obscure  to  the  logical  understanding 
through  this  life  and  perhaps  forever.  ...  But  of  this  I  am 
sure — that  as  soon  as  we  do  see  with  the  clearer  Hght  of  a 
higher  realm,  we  shall  see  the  work  of  Christ  for  us  as  the 
clearest,  simplest,  most  necessary  of  things — free  from  all 
plans  and  devices — the  thing  that  God's  heart  must  have 
done.  Then  we  shall  wonder  at  many  of  our  perplexities 
about  it.  Possibly  we  might  even  now  begin  to  feel  them 
needless,  aside  from  the  point,  if  we  were  more  deeply  spir- 
itual." And  here  is  a  morsel  worth  throwing  in:  "I  don't 
think  I  have  been  lately  in  one  of  my  high  swinging  times,  as 
to  preaching,  and  yet  I  have  lately  had  some  of  the  best  of 
seasons  in  the  pulpit.  It  is  rarely  that  I  have  a  really  poor 
time.  The  pulpit  is  very  dear  to  me."  He  is  working  on  the 
First  Epistle  of  John;  it  is  one  of  his  favorite  parts  of  Scrip- 
ture. "Be  of  good  cheer,  dear  brother,  for  the  Lord  is  lead- 
ing us  with  his  own  hands  and  putting  us  through  the  course 
of  training,  sometimes  painful  and  perplexing,  by  which  he 
will  qualify  us  for  eternal  service.  It  is  good  to  be  in  his 
hand.  Oh,  for  grace  to  learn  his  ways  faster !"  Another  let- 
ter has  this:  "It  is  true  that  ideas  of  a  new  kind  are  leaven- 
ing the  preachers  and  the  churches.  ...  I  believe  in  the 
general  principle  that  what  is  true  is  safe.  But  it  has  been 
very  truly  said  that  truth  may  be  hurtful  if  its  way  has  not 
been  prepared  and  it  is  received  into  a  mind  that  is  not  ready 
to  give  it  the  place  due  to  truth.  Such  considerations  make 
me  anxious  to  be  absolutely  faithful  both  to  truth  and  to 


THE  STORY  OF  A  FRIENDSHIP  147 

men  as  the  Lord's  steward,  and  to  dispense  what  he  has 
given  me  with  goodly  care.  I  believe  I  do  try  to  use  all  pos- 
sible caution,  justice,  and  discrimination,  as  far  as  I  have  the 
power.  But  when  I  ask  myself  whether  I  can  take  another 
tone  and  preach  another  style  of  doctrine  than  that  which  I 
have  preached  I  feel  Hke  Luther  at  the  Diet  of  Worms  and 
can  make  his  utterance  my  own.  And  my  faith  is  full  and 
strong  that  *  the  present  truth '  will  in  the  end  be  a  boundless 
blessing  to  mankind,  because  I  feel  that  its  vital  element  is  a 
higher  and  worthier  conception  of  God.  There  will  be  misap>- 
prehensions  and  misuses,  of  course,  as  there  are  of  all  other 
truth,  but  the  final  beneficence  of  a  more  profoundly  ethical 
and  spiritual  conception  of  God  is  surer  than  the  brightness 
of  noonday  when  the  sun  rises."  This  last  extract  is  from  a 
letter  written  in  bed,  where  he  had  already  been  for  four 
weeks  on  account  of  an  injured  knee,  and  where  he  was  still 
to  be  for  a  few  weeks  longer.  He  bore  this  affliction  like  a 
philosopher  and  a  Christian,  and  never  for  a  moment  lost 
his  cheerfulness  or  his  optimism.  His  next  letter  soon  fol- 
lowed, and  it  was  all  occupied  with  an  invitation  which  had 
come  to  me  to  take  a  chair  in  a  divinity  school.  It  was  a  let- 
ter of  great  wisdom  and  helpfulness.  Referring  to  the  same 
matter  in  the  letter  which  followed  this  one,  he  writes:  "More 
and  more  it  seems  to  me  that  such  an  office  is  a  spiritual 
trust,  and  that  without  the  best  spiritual  life  a  man  cannot 
do  his  work  as  he  ought.  But  it  is  a  noble  trust — an  oppor- 
tunity to  sit  down  with  a  little  child's  humihty  at  the  Mas- 
ter's feet  and  learn  his  truth  from  himself,  and  then  in  the 
confidence  that  comes  of  such  humble  learning  to  speak  it 
so  that  others  may  speak  it  also."  He  comments  upon  the 
"surprising  thing  that  the  disturbed  young  man  whom  I  met 
two  years  and  a  half  ago"  should  now  be  invited  to  take  a 
professorship  in  a  divinity  school  among  the  people  whom 
he  had  almost  thought  he  must  leave  for  conscientious  rea- 
sons.    I  mention  this  in  order  to  say  that  those  two  or  three 


148  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

years  were  notable  years  to  me,  and  that  my  acquaintance 
and  commmiication  with  Doctor  Clarke  was  one  of  the  most 
influential  factors  in  making  them  so.  I  think  now  with  a 
sort  of  wonder  at  the  way  he  gave  himself  to  me,  his  affection 
and  sympathy,  his  faith  and  hope,  his  deepest  convictions, 
his  best  thinking,  his  highest  wisdom.  He  is  still  in  bed,  but 
the  broken  limb  is  progressing  favorably.  He  exclaims: 
"How  I  do  preach !  Probably  it  is  because  I  am  just  getting 
my  hand  in.  Last  week  I  wrote  a  sermon  and  it  was  read  in 
the  pulpit  Sunday  morning,  and  I  heard  it  all  through  my 
telephone.  It  is  going  into  the  Witness  and  I  will  send  it 
to  you.  It  seemed  good  to  preach  again  even  at  second- 
hand." He  looks  forward  eagerly  to  the  time  when  he  can 
go  to  church  and  preach  again  from  his  pulpit.  He  has 
enough  to  say  and  he  loves  preaching.  But  there  are  still 
some  weeks  of  weary  waiting.  This  is  in  May,  1883.  The 
following  letter  tells  more  of  his  broken  limb  and  the  mend- 
ing process:  "If  I  have  a  good  leg  in  a  year  from  the  break- 
ing, it  is  all  that  I  look  for;  and  I  am  not  so  sure  that  it  will 
ever  be  perfect,  though  I  think  it  will  be  good  for  most  ordi- 
nary uses."  And  now  the  prosposal  is  made  to  him  that  he 
leave  the  pastorate  and  take  a  chair  in  what  is  now  the  Theo- 
logical Department  of  McMaster  University,  Toronto.  Much 
as  he  loves  his  people  and  his  pulpit,  he  incHnes  to  the  work 
of  teaching.  "There  are  strong  reasons  against  leaving  here 
at  present,  and  they  may  prevail.  But  I  have  always  thought 
it  would  be  hard  to  decline  a  fairly  promising  invitation  to 
work  of  this  kind,  and  I  do  not  wish  to  decHne  it  now  if  it  is 
right  to  go."  Here  is  another  sentence  from  this  letter:  "I 
haven't  been  very  fond  of  the  address  'Almighty  God'  in 
prayer,  but  I  have  been  thinking  lately  of  spiritual  omnip- 
otence. Isn't  that  the  highest  and  only  true?  I  don't 
know  but  that  'Ahnighty'  may  yet  be  a  favorite  word  with 
me."  It  need  hardly  be  added,  regarding  the  proposal  to 
take  a  professorship,  that  with  the  one  who  came  to  him  to 


I 


THE   STORY   OF  A  FRIENDSHIP  149 

make  it  he  was  perfectly  frank,  "telling  him  all  that  is  in  my 
heart.  He  knows  my  convictions  as  faithfully  as  one  can 
who  does  not  altogether  share  them." 

On  July  9,  1883,  he  writes:  "The  deed  is  done  and  to 
Toronto  I  go.  .  .  .  So  the  die  is  cast  and  I  am  to  be  a  theo- 
logical professor.  I  had  a  hard  fight  last  week  and  spent  a 
few  days  as  blue  as  any  days  that  ever  refused  to  shine.  The 
people  here  .  .  .  acted  throughout  in  a  rational  and  Chris- 
tian way.  But  the  strife  was  mainly  within,  partly  on  ac- 
count of  my  love  for  the  pulpit  and  the  pastorate,  and  partly 
in  view  of  the  outlook  here.  .  .  .  There  was  no  reason  here 
for  a  change,  and  the  whole  burden  of  making  one  came  upon 
me.  .  .  .  But  although  I  was  at  one  time  strongly  inclined 
to  give  it  all  up  and  settle  down  to  stay,  I  am  now  quite  sure 
that  I  have  reached  the  right  conclusion  and  am  quite  happy 
in  the  result.  I  expect  to  enjoy  the  new  work,  and  I  think  I 
may  reasonably  hope  to  be  useful  in  it."  In  reply  to  a  ques- 
tion he  adds:  "Don't  I  know  T.  Erskine  (of  Linlathen)?  I 
don't  like  some  of  his  ways  of  interpretation,  but  his  letters 
are  great  and  noble  and  Christian.  Few  men  have  ever 
written  so  truly  to  the  Christian  purpose." 

The  letter  from  which  I  have  just  quoted  was  the  last  one 
I  received  from  Doctor  Clarke  from  Montreal.  He  now  lays 
down  the  work  of  the  pastor  and,  removing  to  Toronto,  takes 
upon  him  the  work  of  a  professor.  This  change  brought  him 
near  to  me,  my  pastorate  being  in  Hamilton,  Ontario.  Ac- 
cordingly, in  place  of  correspondence,  we  now  had  visits  to 
each  other's  homes,  and  frequent  meetings  in  various  ways. 
Doctor  Clarke  came  occasionally  to  preach  for  me,  and  be- 
fore long  he  became  one  of  our  family  institutions — I  was  going 
to  say,  one  of  our  household  divinities.  Of  course  I  received 
other  letters  from  him  and  I  add  a  few  more  quotations. 
From  Cazenovia,  in  July,  1884,  after  he  had  broken  his  arm, 
he  writes:  "Don't  you  think  I  am  improving  in  my  Telegu? 
You  wouldn't  believe  how  thoroughly  against  nature  it  is  to 


ISO  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

push  the  pen  from  the  left.  If  it  were  not  the  age  of  pads  of 
paper  I  don't  see  how  I  could  make  the  page  lie  still."  In 
December,  1886,  a  letter  came  about  my  possible  removal 
to  Rochester.  It  was  the  kind  of  letter  to  expect  from  him, 
but  I  shall  not  quote  from  it.  After  four  years  of  teaching 
in  Toronto  he  was  called  to  the  pastorate  of  the  Baptist 
Church  in  Hamilton,  New  York.  A  letter  from  Hamilton 
in  October,  1889,  tells  of  his  work  there,  especially  of  his 
work  in  the  pulpit.  He  must  have  been  doing  some  noble 
work  as  a  preacher  at  that  time.  He  anticipated  then  some 
of  the  ideas  that  are  in  the  rural-church  movement  of  to- 
day, and  he  revealed  his  interest  in  the  great  social  move- 
ment which  was  only  just  beginning.  "I  have  most  grati- 
fying attention  from  the  young  men  (of  the  college),  and  am 
glad  of  the  opportunity  to  hammer  away  at  them  with  truth 
that  many  a  man  would  never  think  of  giving  them.  Once 
last  spring  I  chanced  to  get  a  mail  one  day  that  was  extraor- 
dinarily rich  in  philanthropic  and  beneficent  matter,  and  I 
reported  it  on  Sunday  evening,  under  the  title:  'One  day's 
tidings  from  the  new  world.' "  He  did  this  sort  of  thing  more 
than  once  in  the  pulpit,  and  he  adds:  "My  people  delight  in 
hearing  it."  He  is  doing  a  good  deal  of  most  fruitful  read- 
ing, and  his  observations  on  some  passing  events  are  of  inter- 
est and  value.  On  January  i,  1890,  he  sends  a  New  Year's 
letter.  His  idea  of  friendship  and  of  its  survival  beyond  the 
confines  of  time  was  a  beautiful  and  cheering  one.  "I  am  sure 
that  our  lives  have  flowed  together  in  such  a  way  that  in 
spirit  they  will  never  be  separated  in  any  world."  He  prizes 
the  opportunity  which  a  preacher  has  in  a  college  town,  and 
though  he  sometimes  feels  dull,  it  is  evident  that  his  mind  is 
constantly  alert  to  an  unusual  degree.  By  March  18,  1890, 
according  to  a  letter  of  that  date,  he  is  teaching  again.  Doc- 
tor Dodge  had  passed  away,  and  Doctor  Clarke  is  drafted  in 
to  teach  theology  in  the  Theological  Seminary.  He  teaches 
four  mornings  in  the  week  as  a  temporary  supply,  still  re- 


THE   STORY  OF  A   FRIENDSHIP  151 

taining  the  pastorate  of  the  church.  He  devotes  a  full  page 
of  this  letter  to  tell  of  his  enjoyment  of  the  work,  of  his 
method  of  teaching,  of  his  relation  to  the  students,  of  the 
freedom  of  his  lecture-room.  Already  the  suggestion  has 
been  made  that  he  keep  the  work  of  teaching  theology,  but 
as  to  this  he  is  hesitating  and  cautious,  for  he  is  "a  more 
modem  theologian  than  many  men — and  would  not  wish  to 
get  the  institution  into  trouble."  There  are  still  some  most 
interesting  things  which  I  might  add  from  subsequent  let- 
ters, regarding  his  teaching  and  the  preparation  of  his  Outline 
of  Christian  Theology  and  other  matters  of  importance.  Let- 
ters came  from  him  from  Hamilton,  Waverly,  Colorado 
Springs,  Pomona  (California),  and  again  from  Hamilton. 
They  were  for  the  most  part  letters  of  personal  friendship. 
Those  whose  privilege  it  was  to  count  him  among  their  dear- 
est and  most  intimate  friends  can  readily  imagine  the  char- 
acter of  these  letters.  Referring  to  interchange  of  letters,  he 
says:  "Speech  and  silence  are  alike,  except  that  speech  is  de- 
lightful and  silence  is  delay  of  delight;  and  it  is  certain  that 
nothing  will  ever  interfere  with  the  solid  affection  which  is 
not  grounded  in  any  accidents  of  time,  but  in  what  abides 
forever."  I  have  hesitated  to  give  this  quotation,  but  the 
last  letter  of  this  series  ends  with  an  expression  of  remem- 
brance and  affection  which  I  must  not  transcribe  but  must 
leave  just  where  he  wrote  it. 

And  now  as  to  Doctor  Clarke's  work  in  Canada.  He  was 
called  from  Newton  Center,  Massachusetts,  to  the  pastorate 
of  the  Olivet  Baptist  Church,  Montreal,  in  May,  1880.  He 
was  preceded  in  this  pastorate  by  Doctor  John  Gordon,  who 
had  laid  well  the  foundations  of  a  new,  and  what  has  proved 
to  be,  a  strong  and  influential  church.  Doctor  Clarke's  min- 
istry in  Montreal  was  peculiarly  fitted  to  develop  and  solid- 
ify the  Christian  character  of  those  who  constituted  this 
church.  One  of  its  deacons,  Mr.  W.  K.  Grafftey,  testifies 
that  "his  noble,  dignified,  and  sincere  Christian  bearing  pre- 


152  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

sented  a  great  ideal  to  many  of  the  best  men  in  his  parish. 
His  preaching,  so  profound  in  thought  yet  so  lucid  in  expres- 
sion, left  a  deep  impression  on  the  minds  and  lives  of  many: 
God  became  more  real  and  more  near  in  the  daily  life.  His 
was  a  ministry  of  teaching  the  deepest  theological  truth  in 
the  most  practical  form."  It  was  here  that  he  met  with  a 
serious  accident,  the  breaking  of  a  kneecap.  ^Ir.  Grafiftey 
adds:  "It  was  during  the  time  that  he  was  laid  aside  by  this 
accident  that  a  few  of  his  more  intimate  friends  were  called 
upon  to  minister  to  him,  and  in  the  night-watches  as  we  sat 
by  his  bedside  the  most  potent  thoughts  entered  into  our 
very  being  and  made  God's  will  and  God's  interest  in  the 
common  affairs  of  men  very  plain  to  us.  His  prayers  during 
those  nights  of  pain,  as  he  quieted  himself  to  rest,  became  a 
lasting  benediction." 

Another  of  Doctor  Clarke's  Montreal  parishioners  and 
close  friends,  Mr.  John  TumbuU,  writes: 

"I  have  never  known  any  man  more  lovable  than  Doctor 
Clarke,  and  for  many  years  and  now  this  is  the  thought  that 
exists  most  deeply  in  my  heart.  Had  he  hved  in  the  days  of 
our  Lord  he  would,  as  he  exists  in  my  thoughts,  have  been 
the  beloved  disciple.  He  was  humble;  his  humility  made 
him  thirst  for  knowledge  of  God  and  he  attained  that  knowl- 
edge in  such  measure  that  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  I  re- 
garded him  as  one  of  the  inspired  ones  of  earth.  He  aimed 
to  impart,  and  to  ennoble  those  with  whom  he  had  to  do  and 
his  preaching  was  of  that  character  always." 

Doctor  Clarke's  influence  in  Montreal  was  not  limited  to 
his  own  congregation.  This  influence  was  specially  mani- 
fested in  the  meetings  of  the  Protestant  ministers  of  the  city, 
where  he  occasionally  read  a  paper  and  where  he  participated 
freely  in  the  discussions. 

In  the  autumn  of  1883  Doctor  Clarke  began  his  work  as 
professor  of  New  Testament  interpretation  in  what  was  then 
Toronto  Baptist  College.    Regarding  his  work  while  holding 


THE   STORY   OF  A   FRIENDSHIP  153 

this  professorship,  I  quote  at  length  from  two  of  his  students. 
One  of  them  writes:    "To  me,  Doctor  Clarke  was,  in  many 
respects,  the  most  satisfactory  teacher  of  my  student  days. 
His  interest  in  his  students  was  tenderly  sympathetic  and 
was  calculated  to  engender  in  them  the  utmost  desire  to  do 
the  best  possible  work.    He  worked  with  his  students.    Any 
exercise,  for  example  in  New  Testament  exegesis,  assigned 
to  his  classes,  was  prepared  by  himself  as  carefully  as  if  he 
were  the  student  instead  of  the  professor.    His  thought  and 
language  were  clear,   and  he  was  never  satisfied  until  his 
students  could  put  in  their  own  language  and  without  ob- 
scurity their  exegesis  and  interpretation  of  the  passage  under 
consideration.    Very  anxious  was  he  always  that  his  students 
should  love  and  seek  the  truth  even  though  the  finding  of  it 
might  be  the  end  of  certain  prejudices  and  traditions.    As  a 
preacher  Doctor  Clarke  was  eminently  Biblical,  and  whether 
he  preached  from  one  verse  of  Scripture  or  many  his  preach- 
ing was  expository.     He  had  the  art  of  putting  himself  in 
the  other  man's  place,  and,  consequently,  he  made  BibHcal 
pictures  and  teaching  most  vivid.     His  imagination  fairly 
glowed  in  his  preaching,  and  head  and  heart  and  will,  on  the 
part  of  the  hearers,  were  touched  and  influenced  in  a  pecu- 
liarly powerful  way.    Spiritual  things  were  very  real  to  Doc- 
tor Clarke,  and  this  was  never  more  manifest  than  when  he 
was  in  the  pulpit.    In  preaching  or  in  teaching  he  was  so  sug- 
gestive that  thoughtful  people,  especially  students,  found  it 
impossible  to  remember  all  the  channels  of  thought  opened 
in  their  mmds  in  the  course  of  a  sermon.    Though  always  in 
demand  among  the  churches,  Doctor  Clarke  was  not  a  leader 
in  the  denomination— his  bent  was  not  that  way,  though  his 
interests  as  a  Baptist  were  undivided.     His  personal  influ- 
ence was  gracious  and  magnetic.    All  kinds  of  men  were  at 
home  in  his  presence,  and  he  could  easily  adapt  himself  to 
all  conditions  of  society.     No  students,  m  particular,  ever 
came  near  him  without  wishing  to  be  more  like  him  and  more 


154  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

like  his  Saviour,  whom  he  so  well  represented.  As  one  who 
knew  Doctor  Clarke  pretty  intimately  I  can  freely  say  that 
he  was  the  most  Christlike  man  I  ever  knew."  The  other 
of  his  students  whom  I  quote  writes:  "As  a  teacher  the  stu- 
dents of  my  time  admired  and  loved  him  greatly.  He  was  a 
fine  Greek  scholar  and  a  thorough,  painstaking  exegete. 
Besides,  he  was  apt  to  teach.  His  incisive,  flexible  thought, 
his  perfect  lucidity  of  expression,  his  keen,  joyous  interest 
in  the  work  of  the  hour  awakened  responsive  interest  in  the 
class  and  ministered  unfailing  profit.  Best  of  all,  there  was 
in  him  a  deep  reverence  for  truth,  a  joyous  readiness  to  fol- 
low wherever  it  might  lead,  and  a  contagious  consciousness 
of  the  reality  of  spiritual  things.  His  students  always  re- 
membered him  with  a  sense  of  great  indebtedness.  As  a 
personal  influence,  he  was  almost  unique  among  the  men  I 
have  known.  The  freshness  of  his  thinking,  the  Christlike 
purity  of  his  spirit,  his  simplicity,  his  joyousness,  his  unselfish 
interest  in  life  and  in  people  near  and  far — from  all  of  these 
combined  there  radiated  a  powerful  and  gracious  influence 
of  the  most  potent,  far-reaching,  and  ennobling  kind." 

To  the  testimony  of  these  who  were  his  students  little 
needs  to  be  added  regarding  this  period  of  his  life  and  work. 
It  goes  without  saying  that  in  Toronto  he  soon  won  to  himself 
many  friends  who  prized  his  friendship  exceedingly.  They 
realized  that  a  rare  spirit  had  come  among  them.  In  the  case 
of  those  from  whom  he  differed  most  widely  in  theological 
thinking,  their  criticism  was  almost  completely  disarmed 
by  the  wonderful  quality  of  the  man:  there  was  that  in  him 
which  well-nigh  made  it  impossible  for  any  who  knew  him 
to  contend  with  him.  To  Doctor  John  H.  Castle,  president 
of  Toronto  Baptist  College,  his  counsel  and  friendship  were 
invaluable.  He  took  great  interest  in  the  affairs  of  the  col- 
lege and  in  the  home  and  foreign  mission  work  of  Canadian 
Baptists.  He  was  always  ready  to  help  with  a  sermon,  or  an 
address,  or  in  any  way  that  he  could;    and  everywhere  he 


THE   STORY  OF  A   FRIENDSHIP  155 

went  he  made  friends,  left  some  noble  truth  to  think  about 
and  commended  the  cause  of  his  Master. 

Brief  reference  to  a  few  things  which  linger  in  the  memory 
will  give  a  fit  ending  to  this  paper.  When  he  came  to  our 
home  the  pleasure  of  his  visits  was  shared  not  alone  by  Mrs. 
Stewart  and  myself  but  by  our  children  as  well,  and  with 
them  he  soon  became  a  great  favorite.  He  found  time  to 
correspond  with  at  least  one  of  them,  a  little  fellow  five  or 
six  years  old,  and  that  there  was  nothing  merely  conventional 
in  the  interest  he  felt  in  every  one  of  them  he  soon  put  beyond 
all  question.  As  our  children  were  growing  up  his  name  was 
one  of  the  most  familiar  in  our  family  intercourse,  and  I  am 
happy  to  believe  that  his  influence  upon  those  dearest  to  me 
abides.  In  his  visits  to  the  home  it  did  not  take  long  to  dis- 
cover his  love  for  music,  and  especially  for  sacred  music. 
He  was  deeply  interested  in  hymns  and  tunes  for  congrega- 
tional use,  and  his  judgment  in  these  matters  was  unerring. 
It  would  be  difficult  to  name  a  really  good  hymn  or  a  noble 
tune  that  he  did  not  know.  He  played  church  tunes  with 
rare  skill  and  with  great  pleasure  to  himself  and  to  the  lis- 
tener. His  ear  for  harmony  was  so  sensitive  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  him  to  produce  a  discord.  Coming  down  in  the 
morning  a  little  before  the  breakfast  hour,  he  would  sit  at 
the  piano  and  play  one  tune  after  another,  filling  the  house 
with  the  sound,  to  the  delight  of  all.  The  morning  hymn, 
"Come,  my  soul  thou  must  be  waking,"  is  known  in  my 
home  as  Doctor  Clarke's  hymn.  He  played  it  to  the  tune 
"Edna,"  and  after  playing  it  two  or  three  times  in  succes- 
sion he  would  turn  around  and  say  in  his  cheery  way:  "Now 
the  day  may  begin."  For  hymn  and  tune  lovers  it  was  a 
rare  delight  to  gather  around  the  piano  with  him  at  the  key- 
board. One  other  thing  I  recall  with  distinctness:  Twenty- 
five  years  ago,  when  we  heard  practically  nothing  of  the 
social  movement  as  we  now  know  it,  he  was  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  social  question.     I  remember  a  visit  to  his  home 


156  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

soon  after  he  settled  as  pastor  in  Hamilton,  during  which 
there  was  much  earnest  talk  on  this  question.  His  sympa- 
thies were  with  the  toilers  and  the  unprivileged.  Though 
his  life  was  spent  in  the  schools  and  in  the  atmosphere  of  books 
and  ideas  and  in  the  work  of  the  pastorate,  he  nevertheless 
carried  in  his  heart  somewhat  of  the  burdens  and  sorrows  of 
mankind.    If  the  lines, 

"Desperate  tides  of  the  whole  great  world's  anguish 
Forced  thro'  the  channels  of  a  single  heart" 

seem  a  little  too  strong  to  apply  to  him,  he  at  least  could  well 
understand  what  those  lines  mean.  He  was  a  genuine  fol- 
lower of  the  Master  and  he  looked  out  upon  life  with  eyes 
trained  in  the  school  of  Christ.  There  was  in  him  a  deep  seri- 
ousness, a  deep  sympathy,  a  warm  love  for  man. 

How  shall  I  conclude  this  tribute  to  my  friend  ?  So  much 
of  what  he  was  to  me  has  already  found  expression  in  what  I 
have  written  that  I  shall  attempt  no  final  summing-up,  but 
shall  content  myself  with  these  lines  of  William  Watson's: 

"  'Tis  human  fortune's  happiest  height  to  be 
A  spirit  melodious,  lucid,  poised,  and  whole; 
Second  in  order  of  felicity 
I  count  it  to  have  walked  with  such  a  soul." 


WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

By  Doctor  Edward  Judson 

Two  or  three  years  ago,  in  the  little  apartment-hotel,  where 
I  make  my  home  in  New  York,  I  was  standing  one  day  in  the 
elevator,  just  as  it  was  about  to  begin  its  ascent,  when  I  saw 
Doctor  Clarke  approaching  me,  apparently  with  the  inten- 
tion of  going  up  to  my  rooms.    It  was  one  of  those  gray  days, 
when,  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  a  slight  touch  of  depres- 
sion is  apt  to  rest  upon  one's  spirits,  and  I  was  so  surprised 
and  dehghted  by  his  sudden  appearance,  his  friendly  look,  and 
the  tone  of  his  voice,  that  I  seized  him  by  his  two  arms  and 
drew  hun  into  the  elevator  with  the  words:  "I  would  rather 
see  you  than  any  one  else  in  the  world."     There  chanced  to 
be  in  the  elevator  at  the  time  a  middle-aged  lady  of  intel- 
lectual cast,  rather  cold  and  unemotional,  with  whom  I  had 
but  a  very  sHght  acquaintance,  though  we  had  Uved  for 
many  years  under  the  same  roof,  who  said  to  me  a  few  days 
later:  "Who  was  that  gentleman  whom  you  said  you  would 
rather  see  than  anybody  else  in  the  world?"    IrepUed:  "That 
was  Doctor  William  Newton  Clarke."    "WeU,"  she  said,  ''he 
had  the  most  angelic  face  I  have  ever  seen."    Who  of  us  that 
knew  Doctor  Clarke  could  fail  to  appreciate  this  casual  im- 
pression which  his  personality  made  upon  the  mind  even  of 
a  perfect  stranger ! 

In  a  room  full  of  people  one  would  instinctively  single  him 
out  as  a  man  of  mark.  He  possessed  distinction  and  social 
charm.  The  broad  brow  with  its  fringe  of  iron-gray  curly 
hair,  the  strong  mouth,  the  eyes  that  always  looked  you  full 
in  the  face  with  a  kindly  and  comprehending  gaze,  the  large, 
spare  frame,  the  sUghtly  halting  but  vigorous  gait,  the  music 
of  his  cane  touching  the  stone  sidewalk  as  he  approached 

157 


158  WILLIAM  XEWTON  CLARKE 

your  house,  the  cheery  greeting,  the  large  and  expressive 
hands,  like  those  painted  by  Albrecht  Diirer,  hands  of  which 
he  unconsciously  made  marvellous  use  in  elucidating  his 
thought  in  conversation  or  in  the  lecture-room,  the  faultless 
dress  exactly  suited  to  his  person,  the  eternal  youthfulness 
of  the  man,  making  him,  even  in  his  declining  years,  always 
the  friend  and  pla>Tnate  of  the  young — all  these  make  up  a 
picture  in  our  minds  that  will  not  easily  fade  away.  Indeed  I 
sometimes  think  that  when  our  friends  are  parted  from  us, 
their  influence  is  even  more  penetrating  and  compelling  than 
when  they  are  by  our  side.  Being  dead  they  yet  speak  with 
persuasive  tones.  And  yet  how  profoundly  we  miss  them 
here !  How  impoverished  our  atmosphere  here  through  the 
withdrawal  of  such  mighty  spirits !  How  often  since  his  de- 
parture have  come  to  my  mind  Browning's  great  lines  about 
the  Death  in  the  Desert ! 

"We  shall  not  see  him  any  more 
About  the  world  with  his  divine  regard ! 
For  all  was  as  I  say,  and  now  the  man 
Lies,  as  he  lay  once,  breast  to  breast  with  God." 

Some  of  Doctor  Clarke's  personal  traits  were  so  obvious 
as  to  escape  notice.  Candor  was  written  on  his  forehead.  He 
had  set  himself  to  the  task  of  attempting  to  readjust  Chris- 
tian theology  to  the  changed  conditions  of  the  modern  world. 
He  strove  to  restate  the  faith  so  as  to  bring  it  into  harmony 
with  the  best  thinking  that  is  done  in  other  realms  of  knowl- 
edge. He  felt  the  force  of  Frederic  Harrison's  remark,  as 
quoted  by  Henry  Drummond:  "When  you  confront  us  with 
hypotheses,  however  sublime  and  however  affecting,  if  they 
cannot  be  stated  in  the  terms  of  the  rest  of  our  knowledge,  if 
they  are  disparate  to  that  world  of  sequence  and  sensation 
which  to  us  is  the  ultimate  base  of  all  our  real  knowledge, 
then  we  shake  our  heads  and  turn  aside."  Doctor  Clarke  be- 
lieved that  the  faith  could  be  restated  in  modem  terms.    He 


WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE  159 

took  no  delight  in  tearing  down.  His  method  was  always 
constructive.  His  attitude  was  furthest  removed  from  the 
bellicose.  He  took  no  delight  in  wounding  the  sensibihties  of 
the  conservative.  He  did  not  remove  from  beneath  weak 
human  nature  the  smallest  and  most  crumbling  prop,  before 
seekuig  to  replace  it  with  some  enduring  reahty.  He  did  not 
seek  to  attain  a  cheap  and  ephemeral  reputation  for  intel- 
lectual smartness  by  denying  and  deriding  errors  that  have 
become  venerable  through  age,  and  upon  which  longevity 
has  bestowed  a  pecuHar  sanctity.  While  much  was  dissolved 
in  the  crucible  of  his  powerful  and  analytical  mind,  the  resid- 
uum was  infinitely  precious  in  his  eyes,  and  shone  like  re- 
fined gold. 

Apologists  like  Doctor  Clarke  and  Lyman  Abbott  are  apt 
to  be  misunderstood  by  their  brethren.  Such  defenders  of  the 
faith  do  not  think  it  wise  to  carry  into  battle  the  impedimenta 
of  Christianity,  however  useful  in  camp.  It  seems  futile  to 
them  to  try  to  swing  Christianity  into  the  mind  of  the  mod- 
ern man  the  least  reasonable  end  to.  So,  venturing  far  out 
on  the  skirmish  line,  they  incur  the  danger  of  being  shot  in 
the  back  by  their  comrades. 

"Friend  slew  friend,  not  knowing  whom  he  slew."  As 
Goethe  has  it:  "The  few  who  have  really  known  the  human 
heart,  and  who  could  call  it  by  its  right  name,  and  foolishly 
have  not  kept  the  secret  to  themselves  but  have  disclosed 
to  the  populace  what  they  saw  and  felt,  have  been  from  time 
immemorial  crucified  and  burned."  The  seminal  minds  out 
of  which  all  reforms  emerge  are  proverbially  cautious  and  re- 
served. Like  Erasmus,  they  are  apt  to  say:  "Let  others 
affect  martyrdom;  as  for  me,  I  do  not  consider  myself  worthy 
of  the  honor."  Doctor  Clarke  had  little  of  that  caution  and 
diplomacy  possessed  by  his  great  forebear,  Ebenezer  Dodge, 
who  seemed  to  think  that,  even  though  he  held  the  whole 
truth  in  one  hand,  he  would  have  the  right  to  open  only  one 
finger  at  a  time. 


i6o  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

But  Doctor  Clarke  believed  that  the  time  had  come  to 
speak  plainly.  You  never  could  mistake  Doctor  Clarke's 
position.  In  cold,  frank,  and  unambiguous  phrase,  he  has  a 
way  of  bringing  into  clear  perspective  his  divergence  from 
the  current  \iew,  however  offensive  it  might  be  to  that  ele- 
ment in  human  nature  that  not  only  never  has  a  new  idea 
but  hates  one  when  it  sees  it.  The  true  orthodoxy  consists 
not  in  trying  to  hold  with  limp  and  trembling  hand  a  whole 
vast  system  of  tenuously  articulated  dogmas,  but  in  realizing 
for  oneself  in  a  deep  and  personal  way  the  few  essential  truths 
that  lie  at  the  very  centre  of  Christianity,  leaving  the  rest  to 
come  along  in  time  as  corollary.  Faith  is  not  cast;  it  grows. 
It  was  the  great  vital  principles  of  Christianity  that  Doctor 
Clarke  strove  to  grasp  and  realize  in  his  personal  character 
and  to  set  forth  in  enduring  literary  form.  The  dynamic  of 
his  life  was  due  to  his  intense  faith  in  these  ideas.  What  he 
believed  and  reahzed  in  his  own  life  he  stated  with  clearness 
and  candor.  And  the  same  candor  that  characterized  his 
handUng  of  religious  themes  persisted  in  all  practical  mat- 
ters. He  never  weakened  his  case  by  overstatement.  In 
recommending  even  a  friend,  his  word  never  went  beyond 
the  fact. 

It  was  the  intensity  of  his  own  faith  as  well  as  the  candor 
of  its  expression  that  made  him,  like  Daniel  of  old,  a  dissolver 
of  doubts,  and  gave  him  control  over  the  troubled  spirits  of  his 
generation.  It  was  the  intensity  of  his  conviction  that  gave 
Doctor  Clarke  something  of  the  influence  which  Carlyle  de- 
scribes in  the  words  he  is  said  to  have  spoken  to  the  new  rec- 
tor of  the  parish  in  which  he  lived:  "It  is  my  firm  belief  that 
if  these  turbulent  people  could  once  be  brought  to  know  some 
one  who  really  believed  for  himself  the  eternal  veracities,  and 
didn't  merely  tell  them  of  some  one  else  who  in  old  time  was 
thought  to  have  believed  them,  they  would  all  be  reduced  to 
speedy  silence.  It  is  much,  no  doubt,  to  have  a  decent  cere- 
monial of  worship,  and  an  educated,  polite  sort  of  a  person  to 


WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE  i6i 

administer  it.  But  the  main  want  of  the  world,  as  I  gather, 
just  now,  and  of  this  parish  especially,  which  is  that  part  of 
the  world  with  which  I  am  altogether  best  acquainted,  is  to 
discover  some  one  who  really  knows  God  otherwise  than  by 
hearsay,  and  can  tell  us  what  divine  work  is  actually  to  be 
done  here  and  now  in  London  streets,  and  not  of  a  totally  dif- 
ferent work  which  behooved  to  be  done  two  thousand  years 
ago  in  Judea." 

But  besides  his  candor  Doctor  Clarke  possessed  the  grace 
of  imperturbabihty.  All  reconstruction  requires  patience. 
Reform,  they  say,  goes  through  three  stages:  First,  it  is 
laughed  at;  secondly,  it  is  said  to  be  contrary  to  religion; 
and  thirdly,  everybody  knows  it. 

Doctor  Clarke  did  not  deal  in  splendid  negations.  He 
had  a  positive  message,  which  saved  to  the  Christian  church 
many  who  had  begun  to  lose  faith  in  the  ancient  theologies. 
He  was  not  a  prophet  of  doubt  and  misgiving.  The  time  had 
gone  by,  he  thought,  for  indolent  acquiescence  in  theological 
statements,  however  venerable.  According  to  an  English 
publicist:  "The  world  is  grown  saucy,  and  expects  reasons, 
and  good  ones,  too,  before  they  give  up  their  own  opinions 
to  other  men's  dictates,  though  never  so  magisterially  deUv- 
ered  to  them."  While  Doctor  Clarke  sympathized  with  the 
doubter,  he  did  not  leave  him  in  his  doubts,  adding  to  them 
his  own.  He  undertook  to  construct  a  reasonable  theology. 
It  was  the  constructive  note  in  Doctor  Clarke  that  made 
him  a  healing  force  in  a  troubled  time.  He  made  it  possible 
for  many  a  young  preacher  to  go  on  preaching.  What  was 
said  to  Martineau,  with  whom  he  had  much  in  common, 
could  be  truly  said  to  him:  "You  have  given  rest  to  the 
minds  of  many."  The  story  is  told  of  an  eminent  preacher 
in  the  decline  of  life  to  whom  a  friend  remarked:  "What  a 
comfort  it  must  be  to  you  to  think  of  all  the  good  you  have 
done  by  your  gift  of  eloquence."  The  old  man's  eyes  filled 
with  tears,  and  he  replied:    "You  little  know;    you  Uttle 


i62  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

know.  If  I  ever  turned  a  heart  from  the  ways  of  disobedi- 
ence to  the  wisdom  of  the  just,  God  has  withheld  the  assur- 
ance from  me."  The  eminent  preacher  died,  and  had  a 
splendid  funeral.  The  friend  was  there  to  whom  he  had 
sadly  disclaimed  the  knowledge  that  he  had  ever  turned  any 
one  to  righteousness.  By  his  side  stood  a  stranger,  who  was 
so  deeply  moved  that,  when  all  was  over,  the  friend  said 
to  him:  "You  knew  him?  I  suppose."  "Knew  him?"  was 
the  reply.  "No,  I  never  spoke  to  him;  but  I  owe  to  him  my 
soul." 

It  could  have  been  said  of  Doctor  Clarke,  as  of  an  emi- 
nent English  clergyman:  "He  was  one  of  those  ministers 
whose  congregations  are  outside  as  well  as  inside  chapel 
walls."  Matthew  Arnold's  "Rugby  Chapel,"  a  favorite  poem 
of  Doctor  Clarke's,  is  finely  expressive  of  his  own  sacrificial 
service  and  vitalizing  influence: 

"But  thou  wouldst  not  alone 
Be  saved,  my  father,  alone 
Conquer  and  come  to  thy  goal. 
Leaving  the  rest  in  the  wild. 
We  were  weary,  and  we 
Fearful,  and  we  in  our  march. 
Fain  to  drop  down  and  to  die. 
Still  thou  turnedst,  and  still 
Beckonedst  the  trembler,  and  still 
Gavest  the  weary  thy  hand. 
If  in  the  paths  of  the  world. 
Stone  might  have  wearied  thy  feet. 
Toil  or  dejection  have  tried 
Thy  spirit,  of  that  we 
Saw  nothing,  to  us  thou  wast  still 
Cheerful,  and  helpful,  and  firm. 
Therefore  to  thee  it  was  given 
Many  to  save  with  thyself; 
And  at  the  end  of  thy  day, 
O  faithful  shepherd !  to  come 
Bringing  thy  sheep  in  thy  hand." 


WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE  163 

But  such  a  message  was  bound  to  incur  bitterest  oppo- 
sition from  various  directions.  Many  of  the  friends  of  Chris- 
tianity felt  that  in  giving  up  much  that  seemed  to  them 
vital  Doctor  Clarke  was  undermining  the  faith  once  deliv- 
ered to  the  saints.  There  is  hardly  any  mental  pain  so  ex- 
quisite as  to  feel  long-cherished  behef  slipping  out  of  your 
grasp.  Many  Christians  could  not  but  think  that  the  sur- 
render of  the  outworks  behind  which  they  had  so  long  fought 
carried  with  it  the  loss  of  the  fortress  itself.  This  misgiving 
stiffened  down  with  some  into  a  prejudice  that  prevented 
their  even  trying  to  comprehend  his  position.  They  resem- 
bled the  minister  who,  glancing  at  a  copy  of  Darwin's  Origin 
of  Species  lying  on  the  counter  of  a  bookstore,  remarked  to 
a  friend:  "There's  a  man  to  whom  I  have  given  many  a 
hard  hit  in  my  sermons  and,  thank  God,  I  have  never  read  a 
line  of  him."  But  it  is  only  by  sympathetic  comprehension 
even  of  what  we  think  erroneous  that  we  become  the  least 
bit  qualified  effectively  to  oppose  it.  A  friend  of  mine  thought 
that  John  3  :  16  was  not  one  of  the  great  texts  of  the  Bible 
because  it  was  one  of  Doctor  Clarke's  favorite  texts. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  enemies  of  Christianity  have  lit- 
tle use  for  those  who  endeavor  to  harmonize  it  with  the  best 
modern  thinking.  It  causes  them  chagrin  to  see  ancient  dog- 
mas restated  in  modern  and  reasonable  terms,  and  clothing 
themselves  in  appealing  and  engaging  forms.  Especially  pain- 
ful is  the  lot  of  those  who,  like  Doctor  Clarke,  undertake 
to  translate  the  phraseology  of  the  schools  into  language 
comprehensible  by  the  plain  people.  It  is  said  that  a  vote 
of  thanks  was  given  to  Lord  Macaulay  for  having  written  a 
history  that  the  working  man  could  understand.  A  pretty 
story  is  told  of  the  eminent  French  naturalist  Figuier,  who 
was  one  of  the  first  of  the  scientists  who  tried  to  popularize 
science.  His  books  were  profusely  illustrated,  and  his  facts 
were  stated  in  such  simple  terms  as  to  be  intelligible  even 
to  a  child.     This  method  proved  unpalatable  to  some  of  his 


i64  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

professional  brethren,  and  they  nicknamed  him  Vulgarizer 
of  Science.  One  day  when  he  was  at  a  reception  a  Httle  girl 
innocently  asked  him:  "Why  do  they  call  thee  Vulgarizer 
of  Science?"  He  was  at  a  loss  what  to  say  in  reply.  But  a 
little  later  she  gathered  some  roses  which  she  distributed 
among  the  guests,  her  fingers  in  the  meantime  being  pricked 
by  the  thorns.  Figuier  called  her  to  him  and  said:  "Thou 
too,  my  child,  art  a  vulgarizer;  for  thou  givest  roses  to  others, 
but  keepest  the  thorns  to  thyself." 

But  in  all  the  mental  pain  of  being  misunderstood  and 
opposed.  Doctor  Clarke  never  seemed  to  wince.  He  kept 
sweet  and  imperturbable.    He 

"Never  doubted  clouds  would  break; 
Never  dreamed,  though  right 
Were  worsted,  wrong  would 
Triumph." 

Indeed  Doctor  Clarke's  own  serenity  of  spirit  commended 
his  theory  of  life.  Character  is  the  only  perfect  conductor 
of  truth. 

"The  dear  Lord's  best  interpreters 
Are  himible  human  souls." 

A  learned  professor  of  the  conservative  school,  himself 
one  of  Doctor  Clarke's  colleagues,  remarked  to  me  once: 
"There  are  a  good  many  of  us  that  do  not  agree  with  Doctor 
Clarke's  doctrinal  views,  but  we  are  all  of  us  trying  to  live 
up  to  his  level  of  religious  experience." 

The  minister  is  a  kind  of  artist.  The  plastic  stuff  used  by 
the  minister  is  the  humanity  that  lies  about  him.  The  ideal 
in  his  mind  is  the  lovely  image  of  Christ.  His  task  is  to  con- 
form human  individuals  to  that  ideal.  The  secret  of  his 
method  is  that  he  first  realizes  that  ideal  in  his  own  charac- 
ter.   Christ  must  be  formed  in  him  the  hope  of  glory.    Some- 


WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE  165 

how,  without  this,  his  pious  homilies  seem  futile.  What  you 
are,  as  Emerson  puts  it,  thunders  so  loud  that  I  cannot  hear 
what  you  say.  Doctor  Clarke's  character  gave  a  carrying 
quality  to  his  doctrine. 

And  yet  he  was  always  charmingly  devoid  of  self-con- 
sciousness. He  himself  was  least  aware  of  his  moral  great- 
ness. As  with  the  redeemed  in  heaven,  the  Master's  name 
was  written  on  his  forehead,  where  others  could  see  it,  but 
not  he.  He  was  furthest  possible  removed  from  George 
Eliot's  bitter  caricature:  "Practically,  I  find  that  what  is 
called  being  apostolic  now  is  impatience  of  everything  in 
which  the  parson  does  not  cut  the  principal  figure."  The 
best  Christians  in  the  churches  are  those  who  do  not  know 
it.  It  is  absence  of  self-consciousness  that  makes  children 
such  agreeable  companions.  They  are  self-forgetful.  They 
have  the  gift  of  the  outward  gaze.  The  quiet  charm  of  trees 
and  flowers  is  that  they  are  not,  like  ourselves,  self-conscious. 
The  silent  and  symmetrical  unfolding  of  Doctor  Clarke's 
character  proceeded  without  any  painful  effort.  It  is  the 
little  things  in  hfe  that  we  gain  by  hot  chase.  The  great 
tilings  come  to  us,  as  it  were,  around  a  corner,  while  we  are 
looking  for  something  else.  There  was  discoverable  in  him 
no  ambition  to  be  great.  No  one  was  more  surprised  than 
he  that  he  achieved  a  world-wide  reputation  as  a  religious 
thinker.  He  simply  stepped  one  side  from  his  chosen  career 
as  pastor  of  a  little  village  church,  and  finding  himself  in  a 
footpath  leading  through  the  fields,  he  followed  it  to  the 
treasure  at  the  end  of  it.  I  remember  his  first  year  of  teach- 
ing theology,  when  he  made  use  of  Doctor  Dodge's  text- 
book, at  the  same  time  silently  building  up  a  system  of  his 
own.  There  could  have  been  no  conscious  purpose  to  become 
great.  He  was  like  a  tree  that  bears  fruit  not  by  trying,  but 
because  it  has  so  much  life  that  it  does  not  know  what  to 
do  with  it  and  so  turns  it  into  fruit.  Doctor  Clarke  lived 
his  silent  and  crescendo  life  for  the  most  part  in  auiet  coun- 


i66  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

try  places  in  close  contact  with  nature  in  her  simplest  forms. 
In  making  an  inventory  of  his  Httle  world,  he  could  only  say: 

"There  is  best  living  here  loving  and  serving, 
And  quest  of  truth,  and  serene  friendships  dear." 

Doctor  Clarke's  studies  in  theology  did  not  segregate 
him  from  a  life  of  sympathy,  not  perhaps  with  all  sorts  and 
conditions  of  men,  but  especially  with  spirits  touched  to 
finer  issues.  This  is  why  Hamilton  seems  such  a  lonely  place 
without  him,  and  why  one  feels  as  never  before  the  pathos 
of  Tennyson's  lament  over  Arthur  Hallam: 

"For  this  alone  on  death  I  wreak 
The  wrath  that  garners  in  my  heart, 
He  put  our  lives  so  far  apart 
We  cannot  hear  each  other  speak." 

His  sympathy  gave  a  pecuUar  charm  to  his  conversation. 
Like  Richard  Cory,  "He  was  always  human  when  he  talked." 
He  makes  one  think  of  Doctor  Johnson's  friend,  who  gave 
up  studying  philosophy  because  cheerfulness  was  always 
breaking  in.  He  knew  the  secret  of  kindling  into  fruitage 
the  minds  of  others.  He  was  a  good  hstener.  Like  the 
women  of  the  French  salons  he  had  the  art  of  intellectual 
stimulation.  He  drew  out  of  you  your  best  thought,  like 
the  eminent  pedagogue,  who  said:  "I  teach  not;  I  awaken." 
He  took  the  impress  of  your  thought,  without  urging  his 
own.  This  sjnnpathy  of  his  was  the  secret  of  his  success  in 
apologetics.  He  always  felt  the  full  force  of  an  opponent's 
objection.  He  could  put  himself  in  the  place  of  the  doubter. 
The  influence  of  such  men  as  he  and  PhilUps  Brooks  is  due 
not  alone  to  the  big,  positive  truths  they  project  into  the 
mind,  but  more  still  to  the  fact  that  they  sympathize  with 
your  profoundcst  doubt  and  yet  remain  brave  and  true. 

One  of  the  richest  assets  in  the  community  Ufe  of  our 
little  village  of  Hamilton,  where  Doctor  Clarke  spent  many 


WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE  167 

of  his  most  fruitful  years,  is  the  presence  in  it  of  various  peo- 
ple who,  having  found  life  somewhat  hard  and  disappoint- 
ing, have  come  here  as  to  a  refuge  for  their  declining  days. 
They  have  been  attracted  perhaps  by  the  village  church  with 
its  deep  religious  consciousness,  and  in  it  many  a  heart  "at 
leisure  from  itself  to  soothe  and  sympathize,"  and  partly  by 
the  university  which  naturally  yields  a  cultured  social  at- 
mosphere peculiarly  congenial  to  those  who  are  walking  in 
a  solitary  way.  I  hardly  know  any  stretch  of  shore  of  equal 
length  upon  which  there  have  been  cast  up  so  many  pa- 
thetic specimens  of  human  flotsam  and  jetsam.  They  are  like 
the  Persian  sage  who,  when  he  was  asked  what  his  aim  in 
life  was,  rephed:  "I  have  no  aim;  I  have  fired."  Many  of 
them  are  not  Uving  any  longer;  they  are  existing.  They 
remind  you  of  the  voiceless  about  whom  Oliver  Wendell 
Holmes  so  pathetically  sings: 

"O  hearts  that  break  and  give  no  sign 
Save  whitening  lip  and  fading  tresses, 
Till  Death  pours  out  his  cordial  wine 

Slow-dropped  from  Misery's  crushing  presses." 

It  may  be  some  old  missionary  or  retired  minister  with 

"Heart  worn  out  by  many  wars 
And  eyes  grown  dim  with  gazing  on  the  pilot  stars" 

or  some  physician  who  has  retired  from  practise  in  a  distant 
city,  and  himself  broken  in  health  has  come  here  to  die,  or 
some  lady  teacher  of  advanced  years  with  mind  eager  and 
alert,  but  halting  step  unequal  to  the  quick  pace  of  the  mod- 
em educational  procession.  Such  people  remind  you  of  the 
haunting  music  of  George  Eliot's  sentence:  "The  feelings 
that  gather  fervor  from  novelty  will  be  of  httle  help  toward 
making  the  world  a  home  for  dimmed  and  faded  human 
beings,  and  if  there  is  any  love  of  which  they  are  not  wid- 
owed it  must  be  the  love  that  is  rooted  in  memories  and 


i68  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

distils  perpetually  the  sweet  balm  of  fidelity  and  forbearing 
tenderness."  It  is  easy  for  us  to  forget  that  such  people 
exist  at  all.  They  have  learned  to  be  very  shy  and  unob- 
trusive. Now  these  were  the  people  of  whom  Doctor  Clarke 
was  in  search,  like  a  good  shepherd.  He  found  his  way  into 
their  homes.  He  ministered  to  them  out  of  the  resources  of 
his  own  rich  nature.  His  sympathy  was  of  the  kind  that 
follows  up  suffering.  It  seemed  never  to  tire.  It  made 
you  think  of  the  good  Samaritan  who,  having  become  once 
involved  in  a  procedure  of  kindness,  found  there  was  no  end 
to  it.  I  call  that  story  the  Parable  of  the  Holy  And.  The 
whole  of  it  bristles  with  that  little  conjunction.  Doctor 
Clarke's  sympathy  had  no  use  for  the  proverb:  "Out  of  sight, 
out  of  mind."  He  followed  you  with  letters  which  braced  you 
up  to  go  on  bearing  the  struggles  of  the  soul  with  renewed  for- 
titude. A  young  minister  who  after  his  graduation  at  Yale 
University  was  pastor  for  four  years  of  the  Congregational 
Church  in  Hamilton,  and  while  there  used  faithfully  to  at- 
tend Doctor  Clarke's  lectures,  told  me  that  he  had  a  num- 
ber of  letters  from  Doctor  Clarke  which  he  kept  bound  up 
in  a  little  volume  by  themselves  for  perusal  when  lonely  and 
perplexed.  Who  can  measure  the  outreach  of  such  letters, 
written,  many  of  them,  not  on  the  cold  t3^ewriter,  but  with 
the  warmth  of  his  own  hand,  and  the  influence  they  will 
exert  for  years  to  come  upon  the  serious  and  alert  minds  of 
the  rising  ministry ! 

[The  above  tribute  to  his  friend,  long  delayed  by  the  count- 
less exactions  of  the  Adoniram  Judson  centennial  year,  was 
written  by  Doctor  Judson  shortly  before  the  death  of  his  wife, 
while  he  was  watching  over  her  in  anxiety  and  extreme  physical 
weakness,  and  keeping  up  only  as  his  almost  exhausted  heart 
was  spurred  on  by  the  use  of  a  powerful  stimulant.  In  a 
letter  which  accompanied  the  article  he  said:  "I  am  going 
about  my  work  with  leaden  feet!" 

Four  weeks  after  the  passing  of  the  brave,  true  spirit  that 
had  been  nearest  to  him  from  youth  to  age,  a  spirit  that 


WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE  169 

shone  diamond  bright  to  all  who  really  knew  her,  the  door  into 
the  unseen  was  opened  to  Edward  Judson. 

Doctor  Judson  had  almost  hfelong  associations  with  Ham- 
ilton, whither  he  had  been  brought  as  a  boy  of  six  years,  after 
the  death  of  his  father,  the  great  pioneer  missionary  of  Bur- 
mah.  His  place  of  summer  rest,  if  indeed  he  ever  rested, 
was  the  pleasant  house  in  the  heart  of  the  village,  with  its 
lawn  and  garden  which  he  never  tired  of  beautifying,  and 
which  Mrs.  Judson  made  wonderfully  charming  within.  It 
seems  impossible  that  the  rich  and  sparkling  life  of  that  be- 
loved home  is  now  only  a  memory,] 


AN  APPRECIATION 
By  Reverend  Henry  H.  Peabody,  D.D. 

In  these  days  when  the  creedal  path  is  proving  so  crumbly 
to  the  feet  of  the  pilgrim,  now  and  then  a  reUgious  teacher 
or  preacher  dies  whose  creed  has  radically  changed,  yet  whose 
religious  followers  on  being  so  told  are  both  surprised  and 
indignant.  His  friends  rise  in  resentment  and  look  wither- 
ingly  upon  the  accuser  as  one  who  would  slander  the  dead. 
Not  that  this  teacher  or  preacher,  wherever  found,  has  one 
creed  that  he  gives  and  another  that  he  withholds,  but  that 
as  his  doubt  has  deepened  into  certitude  he  has  inclined 
less  and  less  to  theological  preaching,  given  himself  over  to 
the  ethical  demands  of  the  pulpit,  and  allowed  the  assump- 
tion that  he  accepts  the  creed  as  of  yore  to  hve  on  undenied. 
The  coming  of  the  light  is  a  flicker  to  his  intellect  alone  and 
has  never  forced  him  out  of  the  protecting  silence  into  the 
sunlit  spaces.  This  light  has  impelled  him  timidly  to  the 
cellar  instead  of  to  the  housetop.  There  came  a  prompting 
that  he  did  not  meet.  He  declined  the  guidance  and  the 
service  of  the  highest  and  morally  held  his  will  in  leash.  Un- 
like Luther,  his  conscience  "would  allow  him  to  leave  the 
truth  in  the  lurch."  The  trees  growing  in  a  soil  of  ashes 
are  wrinkled  and  gray.  The  teacher  whose  symbol  is  the  in- 
verted bushel,  misled  by  what  he  calls  his  Christian  policy, 
leaves  a  mark  dim,  blurred,  and  unworthy.  He  denies  the 
power  of  the  open  life  to  transfigure  us.  He  dies  with  the 
guilt  of  quietism  upon  him,  apparently  unrepented  of  and 
certainly  unconfessed,  and  leaving  the  few  who  knew  him 
and  the  many  who  knew  him  not  with  devious  and  conflict- 
ing estimates  of  his  character  and  influence.  He  deliber- 
ately declined  to  enter  the  good  fight. 

170 


AN  APPRECIATION  171 

Not  many  months  since,  the  writer  sat  under  the  shadow 
of  "Salvation  Inn"  in  the  Uttle  Devonshire  village  of  Clo- 
velly  and  conversed  with  an  old-time  parishioner  of  Charles 
Kingsley,  whose  spirit  grew  hot  at  my  intimation  that  his 
pastor  had  largely  broken  from  the  doctrinal  standards  of 
the  Church  of  England.  He  declared  that  I  must  be  the  first 
to  utter  the  charge.  The  liberality  of  the  literary  Kingsley 
was  too  nebulous,  his  mark  too  indistinct  to  be  other  than 
quickly  rubbed  out,  leaving  him  now  in  things  of  belief  prac- 
tically an  unknown  factor. 

Professor  William  N.  Clarke,  who  has  during  the  past 
year  passed  over  the  "gray  ferry,"  left  no  such  confusion 
behind  him.  His  mark  is  too  distinct  for  contradiction.  He 
was  the  enemy  of  many  false  things  in  religion  and  has  writ- 
ten a  book.  He  was  unmistakably  an  unorthodox  saint  and 
believer.  God  so  greatened  to  him  that  many  false  things 
in  belief  just  fell  away  and  could  no  more  be  retained.  He 
walked  out  and  out  in  the  simplicity  of  Jesus  and  sought  as 
persistently  to  reveal  as  did  many  to  conceal.  He  respected 
too  profoundly  his  own  spiritual  nature  to  gain  other  than 
an  added  clinch  to  duty  in  his  changed  convictions.  He  had 
an  Emersonian  self-reliance  and  could  say  with  the  monk 
of  Wittenberg:  "In  the  beginning  of  my  course  when  I  wrote 
against  indulgences  and  their  abuse,  I  received  from  heaven 
the  gift  of  depending  upon  myself  instead  of  others."  Under 
his  clear  vision  the  impulse  to  Hve  the  open  life  strengthened 
upon  him.  As  Huxley  said  of  his  friend  may  we  of  ours: 
"He  had  intellect  to  comprehend  his  highest  duty  distinctly 
and  force  of  character  to  do  it."  Son  of  a  minister,  in  turn 
did  he  seek  to  discharge  the  ministerial  function,  only  to  find 
in  the  coming  on  of  his  first  prophetic  days  that  his  creedal 
heritage  was  faulty,  and  that  he  must  be  about  the  recon- 
struction of  his  house  of  faith.  He  saw  others  in  his  profes- 
sion hard  floundering  in  the  midst  of  a  like  creedal  wreckage, 
to  differ  from  him,  however,  in  that  the  truer  thought  made 


172  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

him  at  once  its  quiet  champion,  while  with  them  there  was  a 
falling  away  into  the  still  pool  of  quietism,  where  the  fear  of 
man  became  the  one  directive  force.  To  him,  as  to  Paul, 
the  \dsion  was  heavenly,  to  make  him  more  than  ever  a  child 
of  obedience.  The  glory  of  our  man  was  not  that  he  came 
into  new  light  but  into  new  duty  that  he  did  not  despise. 
Charles  Kingsley,  we  say,  dechned  the  good  fight  for  nobler 
human  faith,  which  our  professor  did  not  do.  Many  and  most 
plausible  were  the  argxmients  to  lead  him  down  the  quietis- 
tic  path,  so  sure  and  safe,  but  to  him  impossible  of  accep- 
tance. He  could  not  be  made  to  think  that  to  speak  openly 
was  other  than  the  best  policy;  or  if  not  that,  then  a  law  of 
everlasting  life.  Silence  to  him  was  a  poisonous  glade  charged 
with  moral  miasma.  The  open  life  could  not  prove  destruc- 
tive, but  to  him  brought  wondrous  growth.  He  said  to  me 
once:  "I  do  not  think  of  myself  as  at  all  a  genius,  only  a 
plain  man  to  get  on  slowly."  He  was  not,  perhaps,  pro- 
foundly intuitional — one  whose  nature,  that  is,  flashed  out 
quickly  broadside  pictures  of  truth — but  studious,  patiently 
brooding,  experimental,  a  step-by-step  student,  a  rising 
"pyramid  of  stone."  Not  slow,  however,  but  rapid  was  his 
unfolding.  Whatever  the  celerity  of  his  progress,  the  marks 
of  growth  were  ever  multiplying  upon  him.  And  this  be- 
cause he  was  the  true  man  walking  a  straight  Hne.  As  Ste- 
venson said,  so  might  this  unwearied  toiler:  "I  still  see 
God  in  the  inch  and  cUng  to  that."  And  every  inch  of  gain 
to  him  brought  more  than  light  to  the  intellectual  side  of 
religion,  but  added  more  than  an  inch  to  the  acre  of  his  ear- 
nest tillage.  So  he  began  to  write  his  books,  not  from  a  flam- 
ing ambition,  but  feeling  that  what  had  come  to  be  his  the- 
ology was  a  form  of  humanity,  and  his  plain  words  were  for 
the  healing  of  sore  and  aching  hearts.  The  wide  fame  that 
came  to  him  made  him  the  most  distinguished  son  of  cen- 
tral New  York  and  the  widest  read  of  all  American  theolo- 
gians.   And  this  all  came  from  his  lowly  walk  in  the  light. 


AN  APPRECIATION  173 

He  did  not  thrust  himself  above  his  Master  or  deem  himself 
too  good  for  human  service.  This  walk  freshened  his  mes- 
sage, strengthened  him  at  the  centre,  freed  him  from  the 
"demon  of  the  commonplace,"  and  made  him  a  preacher 
and  a  writer  of  power. 

How  came  our  friend  in  the  light  and  not  another?  Why- 
Luther  and  not  Tetzel?  Why  does  one  man  gravitate  to 
the  truth  and  his  next-door  neighbor  just  as  certainly  pass 
under  a  delusive  spell?  In  every  community  there  are 
those  who,  sooner  than  others,  will  become  the  easy  victims 
of  any  prevalent  superstition  or  sophism,  will  be  the  last  to 
welcome  an  incoming  truth  or  the  last  to  let  go  an  outgoing 
error.  In  every  community,  too,  the  herald,  the  catcher  of 
the  foregleam.  And  who  more  quick  than  Jesus  to  see  the 
light-seeing  mind  as  an  outcome  of  the  clarified  heart?  To 
the  pure  in  heart  life  tends  to  become  a  voluminous  beati- 
tude, with  the  darkness  ever  waning.  It  is  the  truth-loving 
who  gravitate  this  way,  not  that,  to  whatever  point  truth  lies. 
It  is  the  pure  in  heart,  not  the  weak  children  of  passion  whose 
hearts  muddy  the  stream  of  their  life,  whose  creeds  are  clari- 
fied in  the  Hght,  and  to  whose  lives  direction  is  given.  The 
"inner  light"  of  the  Quaker — to  follow  that  is  the  supremest 
test  to  which  we  can  be  put,  since  this  it  is  which  grips  the 
will  afresh  to  duty.  Doctor  Clarke  had  great  purity  of 
heart.  The  great  stumbling  rocks  in  the  mental  stream- 
way,  the  vulgar  prejudices  and  unyielding  antipathies  that 
so  belittle  the  common  life,  were  not  his,  could  not  gain 
lodgment  in  his  stream.  God  made  him  to  love  truth  with 
a  holy  passion,  and  this  he  did.  No  one  can  interpret  this 
man's  life  but  by  taking  the  measurement  of  his  sympathy. 
He  was  so  tenderly  human  that  a  bad  piece  of  theology 
seemed  to  him  utterly  cruel.  He  was  a  profoundly  loyal 
soul  and  when  caught  between  two  loyalties — the  cardinal 
and  the  superficial — the  lower  must  give  way.  He  had  the 
vision  which  is  ever  joined  with  purity  of  heart.     He  was 


174  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

thought  to  be  disloyal  to  his  denomination,  yet  so  loyal  to 
the  spirit  was  he  as  to  be  constantly  proving  its  best  friend. 
There  is  no  good  fight  without  loyalty  to  that  which  bums 
deepest  within,  no  loyalty  to  another  when  false  to  oneself. 
For  Doctor  Clarke  to  be  loyal  to  his  denomination  was  just 
to  write  his  books.  The  loud-voiced  loyalty  that  deals  with 
life's  externalities  and  satisfies  so  many  fell  short  in  his  es- 
teem. Carlyle's  definition  of  the  sectarian,  as  one  who  mis- 
takes the  sleazy  umbrella  over  his  head  for  the  whole  sky's 
broad  canopy,  would  lead  to  a  grade  of  loyalty  impossible  to 
him. 

His  recoil  from  a  theological  brawl  and  his  quiet  and  per- 
sistent continuance  in  the  good  fight  into  which  must  enter 
both  the  active  and  the  passive  elements  of  courage  were 
equally  marked.  He  was  a  fine  economizer  of  power  and  of 
his  opportunities.  Among  the  well-poised  men  of  any  large 
grouping  he  was  well-nigh  the  most  so,  and  this  in  mind  and 
heart  kept  him  free  from  wastefulness.  He  was  careful  of 
what  he  said,  careful,  too,  that  he  said  it,  and  that  no  fog- 
bank  of  sophistication  eclipsed  or  abbreviated  his  message. 
He  caught  at  once  the  difference  between  a  patched-up 
statement,  the  victory  of  which  is  transient,  though  the  con- 
ceit of  the  patcher  may  lead  him  to  think  it  final,  and  a  con- 
clusive proof  sharing  largely  in  the  permanent.  Duty  came 
to  him  and  extended  the  hand  of  responsibility,  and  he  took 
it.  Here  at  this  Hamilton  scholastic  shrine  he  lived  the  most 
of  his  life  of  protest  and  fought  out  the  good  fight,  mellow- 
ing in  his  saintliness  and  coming  through  at  last  with  soul 
sweetly  beaming.  He  had  no  relish  for  martyrdom  and  per- 
haps felt  that  the  word  did  not  belong  to  this  generation, 
and  yet  when  duty  and  all  kinds  of  disagreeable  experiences 
intersected,  not  a  shadow  of  hesitation  passed  over  him. 

This  crisis  in  his  spiritual  history  of  which  we  have  spoken 
brought  a  deep  trial  of  his  faith.  The  most  subtle  of  all 
tyrannies  and  the  least  pungent,   that  of  friendship — from 


AN  APPRECIATION  175 

this  he  felt  a  strong  pressure.  Voices — good,  mothering 
voices  without  number,  coming  from  a  kindly  though  a 
worldly  prudence — bid  him  be  loyal,  though  back  of  their 
warnings  was  the  subconscious  fear  that  he  might  be,  and 
by  their  loyalty  meaning  something  quite  unlike  that  of  the 
spirit  inly  speaking.  He  was  dreaming  of  a  higher  service 
to  his  church  than  that  his  friends  would  hold  him  to.  What 
Theodore  D.  Bacon  has  recently  written,  "that  of  all  Prot- 
estant bodies  the  Baptists  were  in  the  profoundest  dog- 
matic slumber,"  Doctor  Clarke  felt  to  be  true,  and  to  awaken 
his  denomination  from  this  slumber  became  tlie  strongest, 
most  central  purpose  of  his  Hfe.  But  more,  I  believe,  may 
be  said,  what  this  author  has  indeed  said  in  part,  that  of  all 
Protestant  bodies  during  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  none 
has  come  to  a  more  profound  spiritual  awakening  than  the 
Baptists.  During  this  quarter  of  a  century  our  evangelism 
has  taken  on  more  of  what  it  previously  lacked — the  pro- 
phetic spirit  and  aim.  We  have  come  to  see  that  the  time  is 
at  hand  when  we  shall  cease  to  be  known  as  always  fatally 
conservative  in  theology.  And  in  the  line  of  this  deep  stir- 
ring whose  voice  has  been  so  potent  as  that  of  the  Colgate 
professor?  In  him  theology  has  had  well-nigh  a  revival  of 
no  mean  proportions  the  Christian  world  over;  yes,  to  thou- 
sands of  readers  it  has  regained  its  lost  charm  and  interest 
through  the  rare  persuasion  of  our  friend's  personality.  To 
him  religion  was  not  a  certain  fixed  quality  beyond  addi- 
tion or  subtraction,  but  as  truth,  beauty,  power,  was  to  en- 
large and  deepen,  take  on  and  cast  off,  and  the  change  that 
had  come  to  his  faith  was  so  life-giving  as  to  send  him  forth 
as  its  champion.  No  policy  of  silence  could  be  allowed  to 
take  the  place  of  open  speech.  To  him  the  greatest  and  most 
subtle  of  all  policies  was  the  policy  of  perfect  truthfulness. 
To  him  the  opposite,  the  belief  that  the  cause  of  religion  is 
well  served  by  trimming  down  the  truth,  clipping  its  fringes, 
was  a  heresy,  an  ethical  heresy  piercing  to  the  very  heart  of 


176  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

Christ.  The  honey  of  the  demagogue  is  in  reality  poison. 
Trimming  down  the  truth  may  prove  a  passing  comfort  to 
some  but  brings  no  abiding  paraclete  to  any. 

The  spirit,  too,  in  which  he  waged  his  battle  made  his 
fight  good.  There  was  nothing  harsh  in  his  emotional  make- 
up. Over  the  fields  of  his  personality  the  harrowing  winds 
never  blew.  His  was  not  the  instinct  of  the  gladiator  in 
which  he  loved  to  measure  himself  with  an  opponent  and 
glory  in  his  overthrow.  It  seemed  a  profanation  to  those 
who  might  attack  him  and  was  always  done,  it  seemed  to  me, 
in  pain  or  extreme  reluctance.  In  fact,  men  who  under  like 
conditions  would  have  been  fierce  and  violent  to  others,  to 
him  were,  as  a  rule,  in  their  protest  gentle,  quiet,  tmsevere. 
If  our  professor  was  the  occasion  of  a  storm,  their  hearts, 
not  his,  were  that  storm's  humming  centre.  He  was  so  ideal 
in  spirit  as  to  keep  within  moderation  the  battle  all  along 
the  line.  He  never  created  the  waste  of  a  useless  antagonism. 
The  endless  agitation  of  thought  with  thought  in  human 
life  was  to  him  normal  and  desirable;  without  it  there  was 
no  getting  on  and  up  to  the  better  and  truer  things  of  faith. 
He  was  tolerance  itself  to  the  friends  of  the  old  faith  and 
would  have  defended  them  valiantly  from  the  hot  breath  of 
any  liberal's  intolerance.  He  did  enjoy  a  frank  interchange 
of  the  most  interior  thought,  but  when  the  tongue  grew 
edgy  and  the  heart's  waters  roiled,  unfit  for  the  use  of  the 
sheep,  he  drew  into  the  covert  of  silence.  The  proverbial 
chip  so  common  to  the  human  shoulder  was  never  seen  on 
his.  In  the  theological  attitude  he  had  assumed  he  was  too 
keen  in  his  knowledge  of  men  to  be  surprised  at  what  came 
his  way,  and  took  willingly,  though  not  gladly,  his  measure 
of  the  heretic's  odium.  He  who  criticised  him  was,  to  his 
mind,  doing  no  more  than  he  should — a  criticism  that  gen- 
erally ended  in  praise  of  his  Christian  character.  So  gently 
impersonal  was  his  word  that  the  retort  came  back  shod  in 
the  velvet  of  his  own  mildness.    He  was  easy  to  converse  with 


AN  APPRECIATION  177 

but  hard  to  quarrel  with,  so  one-sided  must  the  quarrel  be. 
His  nature  was  so  keyed  that  radicalism  was  possible  with- 
out the  iconoclastic.  In  Japan,  we  read,  the  sword-maker 
works  in  priestly  garb  and  eats  only  of  food  cooked  with  holy 
fire.  The  sword  of  the  spirit  was  our  friend's;  he  fought 
his  good  fight  and  won  by  that  aggressive  force  that,  sword- 
like, flashes  in  and  out  from  character.  Longfellow  was  pure 
in  spirit,  but  then  he  fell  further  below  the  prophetic  than 
any  other  of  our  leading  poets.  Carlyle  rose  into  the  pro- 
phetic, but  in  his  rudeness  and  morbid  sensibility  lost  the 
grace  and  serenity  of  Longfellow.  Our  professor  walked 
nearer  the  ideal,  walked  well  the  even  trail  that  makes  the 
morally  beautiful  prophetic  and  the  prophetic  radiantly 
beautiful.  ''Walk  with  a  crowd,"  said  Lafcadio  Hearn,  "and 
you  will  never  do  anything  great,"  yet  our  friend's  heart 
kept  him,  which  is  better,  to  the  great  crowd  of  his  denomi- 
nation— not  in  bondage  to  it,  but  by  his  freedom  seeking  to 
bless  all  who  walk  within  it,  this  as  a  theologian  plainly  on 
our  level,  concerned  with  questions  more  practically  religious 
than  transcendentally  theological. 

I  say  the  light  that  came  to  our  teacher  brought  its  test. 
Till  its  pressure  to  divide  his  ways  he  did  not  know  how 
strong  or  weak  he  was.  Then  his  honesty  lost  the  common- 
place, became  the  deepest  attitude  of  his  soul  and  opened  out 
upon  the  path  that  led  to  his  cross.  Jesus  saw  no  clearer 
path  of  pain  and  sorrow  than  may  the  young  man  of  to-day 
who,  "  Queed  "-like,  walks  in  the  light  of  his  ideal.  There  is 
an  honesty,  one  with  a  successful  pohcy  and  joined  with  no 
cross.  There  is,  too,  an  honesty  that  never  yet  has  led  to 
what  men  call  success,  but  always  to  condemnation  and  loss, 
and  unfailingly  injects  to  the  honey  of  life  a  bitter  tang.  Our 
professor  knew  what  it  was  to  have  his  heart  melt  under  the 
stirring  romance  of  the  heroic  life,  and  the  time  came  when 
that  Jerusalem  cross  seemed  of  value  only  as  it  led  him  to 
push  his  shoulder  under  one  of  his  amid  present  issues,  and 


178  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

to  know  his  own  bitterness.  And  this  individual  cross  was 
incident  to  the  plain  speaking  of  his  message.  How  much 
more  dishonesty  means  now  under  the  deepening  of  duty,  as 
he  joined  the  disciples  of  old  in  being  the  light  of  the  world. 
The  conservative  asks:  "Am  I  not,  too,  an  honest  man?" 
"Is  the  radical  the  only  one  to  be  called  honest?"  But  have 
you  never  asked  why  the  truer  man  suffers  what  the  moral 
floater  does  not?  A  radical  zone  stretches  between  them. 
The  morally  venturesome  goes  with  one  and  not  with  the 
other.  True,  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard;  that  of  the 
idealist  also.  The  difference  between  the  conserver  and  the 
bringer  in,  the  daring  scout  on  the  field  of  human  advance, 
is  that  one  walks  with  the  many,  the  other  with  the  few,  the 
one  to  retain  the  spiritual  deposits  of  the  past  the  other  to 
add  thereto.  The  conservative  never  stands  for  a  truth  that 
has  not  already  won  its  way  out  of  the  zone  of  danger,  its 
day  of  cross,  into  the  peaceful  clover-field  of  blooming  secur- 
ity. We  live  in  a  life  in  which  truth  is  in  perpetual  flux, 
with  enough  coming  to  every  generation  to  focalize  its  aims 
into  earnest  issue  and  divide  thinking  minds  into  what  we 
call  conservative  and  radical  the  world  over.  Unless  a  man 
enters  into  this  ceaseless  contest  in  furtherance  of  the  truth 
of  God,  he  remains  untested  and  knows  not  whether  he  be 
honest  or  not  in  any  radical  meaning  of  the  word,  and  we 
know  not  with  what  alacrity  or  lack  of  the  same  he  would 
decUne  the  prophet's  call  or  rise  to  its  demand. 

Doctor  Clarke  was  a  tested  prophet  of  the  soul.  The 
message  that  had  come  to  him  was  so  strong  as  to  sweep 
him  without  disguise  to  its  utterance.  Like  his  Master,  he 
overcame  the  world.  He  helped  men  in  that  he  would  speak 
out.  There  was  a  small  multitude  of  those  who  in  a  measure 
had  the  light  to  the  one  who  made  it  an  open  word.  With- 
out prating  of  sincerity  he  simply  was  sincere.  God  was  the 
guest  in  his  own  breast  and  he  would  not  dismiss  him.  He, 
in  the  household  of  faith,  was  a  great  servant  of  the  truth. 


AN  APPRECIATION  179 

He  was  a  friend  in  the  spirit,  the  religious  helper  always 
needed,  and  in  his  inreach  profoundest  of  all.  His  feet  were 
clear  of  the  clay  that  sticks  to  the  shoes  of  the  clumsy  politic, 
and  his  break  from  us  was  not  merely  a  slight  perfume  of 
unorthodoxy  on  the  one  hand  nor  a  pretentious  and  extrava- 
gant heterodoxy  on  the  other,  but  a  quiet  message  void  of 
extremes,  spoken  in  a  style  that  betrayed  the  moral  realism 
of  his  nature,  such  as  came  from  out  the  deeps  of  old  Hugh 
Latimer,  who  at  thirty  years  of  age  began  "  to  smell  the  word 
of  God."  Yet,  unlike  the  priest's  manner  of  speech,  our 
friend's  was  far  removed  from  the  rough  and  uncouth  and 
always  touched  with  a  gentle  spirit  and  a  simple  beauty. 

We  have  called  our  prophet  mild  of  spirit.  Yet  he  who 
conceives  of  htm  as  gentled  out  of  all  capacity  for  anger 
would  seriously  mistake.  He  had  at  times  a  Pauline  wrath, 
or  that  high  grade  of  anger  quickly  here  and  gone  that  we 
associate  with  the  apostle.  It  was  royal  in  its  type,  such  as 
a  high  moral  nature  would  discharge  in  its  most  explosive 
mood.  He  had  an  effectual  gift  for  reproof,  not  always  used 
and  when  at  all  with  reluctance,  yet  crushingly  effective  be- 
cause so  pure  in  quality  and  so  free  from  any  inconsistency 
to  dull  its  edge.  Many  men  make  easy  ventures  in  this  line, 
whose  reproof  carries  no  sting,  so  entangled  are  they  in  this 
inconsistency  and  that;  for  them  to  attempt  the  language 
of  rebuke  is  to  fail.  But  the  saintly  Clarke — to  him  we  in- 
stinctively yielded  the  right  to  discharge  this  function,  and 
once  hearing  it  administered,  would  shrink  from  a  possible 
application  to  ourselves.  It  was  wrath  pontifical  indeed,  yet 
rising  from  such  pure  depths  as  to  appear  what  it  was,  but 
a  form  of  friendly  ministration.  This  teacher  of  ours  sought 
to  cultivate  reverence  in  his  students.  He  would  impress 
upon  them  the  centrality  of  reverence  to  the  pulpit  function. 
He  himself  was  profoundly  reverent  even  in  his  most  humor- 
ous moods,  and  when  in  this  story- telling  generation  the 
young  pulpiteer  cut  the  fine  thread  that  runs  between  the 


i8o  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

reverent  and  the  humorous,  our  professor  would  cringe  for 
him  and  in  tones  of  loving  severity  call  him  to  his  better  self. 
It  was  quickly  done,  never  degenerating  into  what  we  call 
the  nagging.  It  was  so  easy  for  many  to  pass  this  line.  Yet 
so  finely  attuned  was  he  himself  to  the  key  of  the  reverent 
as  never  to  break  through  it.  He  saw  nothing  irreverent  in 
the  merriest  mood,  yet  too  sudden  a  transition  from  the  one 
to  the  other  betrayed  the  latent  defect  and  his  reproof  was 
likely  to  flame  out.  I  never  knew  him  to  say  the  laughter- 
provoking  thing  in  the  pulpit,  simply  for  the  reason  that  to 
one  of  his  nature  the  worshipful  impulse  and  the  fun-loving 
could  not  so  quickly  blend.  He  could  never  translate  his  gos- 
pel into  the  terms  of  the  comic  almanac.  To  him  the  humor- 
ous and  the  prayerful  could  not  dominate  the  heart  at  the 
same  moment,  but  must  for  the  time  exclude  each  other. 
He  was  that  rare  thing,  a  reverent  humorist. 

The  English  essayist  Christopher  Benson,  writes  of  a 
lack  of  great  men  in  our  time  and  claims  that  the  passing  age 
is  unfavorable  to  greatness.  Surely  the  type  our  professor 
stands  for  is  large,  wondrously  so,  in  its  adaptation  to  these 
religious  times.  He  dominated  men  intellectually  his  supe- 
riors. As  we  stood  before  him  his  fine  gifts  gave  way  in  our 
attention  to  the  finer  glow  of  his  character.  He  was  not  a 
great  metaphysician,  simply  one  transcendental  in  his  radi- 
ant common  sense,  with  his  theology  so  largely  the  simple 
history  of  his  own  heart.  What  a  broad  nature  was  his,  tested 
by  growth  which  continued  to  the  end.  If,  as  has  been  said, 
"all  minds  of  the  first  quality  move  and  grow  and  cannot 
remain  in  a  stone  fixity,"  then  indeed  we  dare  pronounce  him 
great.  How  great  he  was  in  what  he  had  not  as  in  what  he 
had !  If  he  nurtured  any  personal  aim,  it  was  most  success- 
fully hidden  away  and  had  no  unconscious  escapes.  Ambi- 
tion with  him  was  so  gentle  as  to  elude  detection.  As  far  as 
appeared,  his  marked  measure  of  success  left  uninflamed  his 
approbativeness,  with  his  spirit  unmarred.     How  blessedly 


AN  APPRECIATION  i8i 

simple  he  was,  like  a  spreading  tree  both  lowly  and  lofty,  and 
meeting  to  a  finish  the  great  Scotchman's  definition  of  sin- 
cerity: "to  be  free  from  all  manner  of  affectation."  Who 
could  detect  in  his  moral  temperature  in  his  controversial 
days — occasional  only  with  him — any  malign  heat,  or  in  his 
stream  of  endeavor  any  muddy  sediment?  How  gloriously 
he  improved  his  time,  bringing  book  after  book  out  of  those 
invalid  years  !  How  fair  he  was  in  debate,  how  kindly  patient 
and  wilhng  to  go  as  far  as  he  could  with  an  opponent,  holding 
himself  in,  not  sensitive  to  contradiction,  unshowy  of  power, 
appreciative  of  every  glint  of  wisdom  in  that  opponent's 
argument,  never  seeking  to  gain  an  adherent  by  the  pressure 
of  any  dogmatic  authority,  but  only  by  a  legitimate  persua- 
sion !  How  tactful  he  was,  with  no  impression  from  him  of 
the  merely  shrewd  and  of  the  serpent's  cunning !  Too  sane 
was  he  for  any  wild  extremes,  with  fanaticism  as  impossible, 
intellectually  lowly  and  mellow  as  a  golden  leaf,  with  no  dis- 
position to  compromise,  yet  blending  with  you  to  his  utmost, 
self-insisting  and  self-asserting,  with  an  unsophisticated  heart 
in  his  breast,  chivalrous,  sweetly  cheerful,  joyful  of  spirit, 
with  a  heart  full  to  the  brimming  of  the  companionable,  and, 
last  of  all  and  most  fundamental  of  all,  with  a  transmissive 
purpose  vigorous  enough  to  secure  the  giving  of  his  message 
and  the  taking  back  into  his  own  breast  whatever  of  pain 
and  sorrow  must  be  his  portion.  Surely  here  is  greatness  the 
world  has  ever  lacked  and  is  lacking.  Rare  as  he  was  in  his 
endowment,  still  rarer  in  that  lofty  character  from  which 
arise  our  inspirations  and  renewals  to  keep  us  steady  to  our 
duties  on  the  dusty  highways  of  Hfe. 

This  great  character  of  Doctor  Clarke  came  to  be  grounded 
more  and  more  in  the  greatness  of  his  God.  To  worship  the 
Httle  God  was  impossible  for  him.  Were  I  asked  as  to  the 
point  where  he  helped  most  his  spiritual  friends,  I  should  say 
that  of  God.  I  link  this  great  nature  with  his  great  God. 
This  would  harmonize  with  what  has  come  to  us  from  out 


i82  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

this  generation  as  a  whole.  Wherein  did  Jesus  and  the  Jews 
most  differ  but  in  the  varying  Gods  worshipped?  In  the 
thoughts  of  God  in  Jesus  the  whole  world  over  was  to  greaten 
away  from  Yahweh.  In  most  of  defective  religious  educa- 
tion, the  chief  or  central  defect,  that  which  sustains  and 
keeps  from  falling  away  much  of  the  creedal  fictitiousness,  is 
that  the  God  and  the  creed  accepted  are  in  agreement  to  sus- 
tain each  other.  Reconstruct  your  defective  thoughts  of  the 
power  that  rules  over  us — the  false  bottom  in  all  your  re- 
ligious thinking — and  the  creed  as  you  have  carried  it  begins 
to  slacken  in  its  hold.  The  better  God  cannot  enter  if  the 
old-time  worship  be  retained.  It  was  so  with  Professor 
Clarke  himself,  that  to  retain  his  olden  faith  after  the  beam- 
ing out  upon  him  of  his  newly  greatened  Father  was  impos- 
sible. Luther  claimed  at  one  time,  because  of  the  Reforma- 
tion light,  that  the  quality  of  worship  in  Germany  had  im- 
proved. This  monk  as  the  friend  of  G^d  won  the  people  to 
a  less  crude  worship.  Fresh  joy,  hope,  and  cheer  came  in 
the  light  of  God's  now  glorified  features,  the  hold  of  the  ritual 
lessened,  God  tended  to  become  the  burning  centre  of  the 
people's  praise.  Let  us  once  admit  the  progress  in  the  idea  of 
God  and  there  is  an  inevitable  lifting  up  all  along  the  devo- 
tional line.  In  this  greatening  of  God  come  all  strengthening 
impulses  of  our  faith.  To  change  in  this  high  altitude  tells 
in  every  movement  on  the  human  level.  Half-paganized  con- 
ceptions of  God  come  up  to  us  out  of  the  early  ages  and  lodge 
in  our  creeds  and  Uturgies,  and  to  remove  them  means  long 
and  earnest  battle.  Theology  is  in  the  main  a  matter  of  God, 
and  there  is  no  progress  in  one  save  as  we  ascend  in  the  other. 
Much  of  the  atonement  philosophy  of  the  past  has  now  fallen 
away  before  the  rounded  conception  of  the  Infinite  nature, 
till,  with  Browning,  we  can  see  Christ  in  God,  or,  with  Heine, 
we  can  speak  of  him  not  as  delighting  in  costly  ceremonies 
but  as  "a  God  of  the  people,  a  citizen  God."  In  our  absent 
teacher  the  deep,  true  showing  of  the  Father  blossoms  in 


AN  APPRECIATION  183 

theology  Into  an  added  mercy  and  beauty,  renders  our  wor- 
ship less  crude  and  reluctant,  and  more  spontaneous  and 
free.  "  Poor,  poor,  pitiable,  pitiable  are  his  low- toned  thoughts 
of  God,"  he  would  say  in  tremulous  tones,  speaking  of  some 
writer  under  discussion. 

Death  bore  him  home  to  the  hearts  of  many.  In  the  day 
of  his  passing,  wherever  two  or  three  of  his  friends  had  gath- 
ered, there  was  this  professor  in  their  midst.  The  event  of 
his  death  fell  silently  but  thoughtfully.  Those  who  spoke  of 
him  were  few  to  those  who  quietly  took  in  again  the  measure 
of  his  life  and  called  it  good.  Those  who  had  differed  could 
not  by  force  of  this  event  become  praiseful,  yet  felt  sure  that 
a  character  of  large  and  beauteous  proportions  had  passed 
on.  The  number  of  those  who  loved  him  and  are  thankful 
for  the  simple  moral  splendor  of  his  manhood  are  very  many. 
We  are  grateful  that  when  the  Hght  came  and  his  orthodox 
days  had  passed,  he  did  not  say,  "No  creed,"  and  so  turn 
away  from  theology,  the  common  mistake  of  the  liberal,  but 
"A  better  creed,"  with  years  of  devotion  to  its  reconstruc- 
tion. In  him  we  feel  anew  the  power  and  immortal  charm 
of  the  Christian  Hfe,  as  in  him  it  fell  away  so  completely 
from  the  weariedly  commonplace  in  rehgion.  In  him  many 
of  his  students  gained  the  first  sweet  taste  of  the  open  Ufe 
and  still  feel  the  friendly  fascination  of  his  spirit.  He  was  a 
friend  of  God  and  came  to  his  defense,  and  through  him  a 
multitude  found  the  Father  afresh.  I  am  glad  of  heart  that 
this  man  went  through  the  gateway  of  death  not  under  the 
cloud  of  the  self-hidden  life  and  with  Hps  stoutly  sealed.  He 
gave  the  world  what  it  wofully  needed,  an  open  word  in  re- 
ligion, and  we  are  thankful  for  it.  No  devotee  of  the  clod 
was  he;  to  him  "duty  was  twin  to  adoration."  In  the  things 
in  which  he  broke  from  us  he  drew  nearer  to  us,  was  in  the 
line  of  advance,  yet  in  certain  elements  of  his  nature  he  was 
simply  great,  whether  true  or  mistaken  in  his  cleavage.  So 
the  silence  of  many,  which  must  be,  shall  not  trouble  us  or 


i84  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

make  us  impatient  for  the  coming  of  the  more  general  ac- 
claim. Bunyan  says,  writing  of  "Mr.  Valiant  for  Truth," 
as  he  merged  into  the  shadow  of  the  celestial  city:  "So  he 
passed  over,  and  all  the  trumpets  sounded  on  the  other  side." 
On  this  side,  with  our  friend,  not  all  the  trumpets  sounded; 
in  many  cases  not  even  an  oaten  straw  was  blown.  Here, 
single  voices,  but  there,  we  must  believe,  the  full  orchestra 
of  praise.  The  memory  of  this  helper  in  the  spiritual  Ufe  will 
grow  great  with  years;  there  is  nothing  fictitious  in  his  fame 
to  fade,  while  much  to  broaden  into  lasting  appreciation. 
And  as  he  passed  over,  however  quiet  the  instruments  of 
praise  here,  I  will  think  like  Bunyan  with  the  hero  of  his 
allegory,  that  on  "the  other  side"  there  was  a  great  out- 
burst of  glad  acclaim  that  our  St.  William  with  heart  ever 
valiant  for  truth  had  at  last  come  to  his  eternal  home  to 
receive  his  lasting  citizenship  in  the  city  of  God. 


► >' "-^"-^--^  ^-^r-    -r.^-^^ 


THE  "THEOLOGY"  OF  WH^LIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE^ 
By  William  Adams  Brown,  Union  Theological  Seminary 

Fifteen  years  ago  there  appeared  a  volume  of  some  four 
hundred  pages,  which  bore  the  modest  title,  An  Outline  of 
Christian  Theology.  It  had  originally  been  prepared  by  the 
author,  a  professor  in  Hamilton  Theological  Seminary,  for 
the  use  of  his  seminary  classes,  and,  after  circulating  for 
some  time  in  the  form  of  typewritten  notes,  was  privately 
printed  for  the  greater  convenience  of  the  users.  No  at- 
tempt was  made  to  advertise  the  book,  but  in  due  time  it 
found  its  way  into  the  hands  of  one  and  another  who  was 
interested  in  theological  questions,  and  when  in  1898  it  was 
issued  by  the  author  through  the  ordinary  channels,  it  re- 
ceived from  the  pubUc  an  instant  and  hearty  welcome. 

Three  quaUties  explain  the  success  of  Doctor  Clarke's 
Theology.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  written  in  a  clear  and 
simple  style.  Technical  theological  terms  were  as  far  as 
possible  avoided.  While  it  gave  evidence  of  wide  and  care- 
ful reading,  there  was  no  parade  of  learning.  The  author 
was  evidently  concerned  to  tell  his  story  in  the  most  direct 
fashion  possible,  and  content  to  rely  for  his  appeal  upon  the 
inherent  interest  of  his  subject-matter. 

The  spirit  in  which  the  book  was  written  was  moreover 
one  of  singular  serenity.  The  author  approached  the  vexed 
questions  of  theology  with  a  quiet  confidence  which  at  once 
disarmed  criticism  and  allayed  fear.  He  contemplated  the 
changes  wrought  in  our  view  of  the  world  by  modern  science 
with  calmness,  as  if  they  were  a  matter  of  course.  He  was 
untroubled  by  Biblical  criticism.  The  theory  of  evolution 
was  accepted  without  question;    the  traditional  eschatology 

'Reprinted  from  The  Harvard  Theological  Review,  vol.  HI,  April,  1910. 

185 


i86  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

so  courteously  dismissed  that  one  scarcely  realized  that  it 
was  gone.  Where  many  writers,  like  the  chief  captain  in 
Acts,  had  obtained  their  freedom  with  a  great  price,  Doctor 
Clarke  wrote  as  one  free  born.  He  seemed  as  much  at  home 
spiritually  in  the  modern  world  as  he  had  been  when  a  boy 
in  his  father's  house. 

And  yet  he  was  none  the  less  Christian.  Indeed,  the 
striking  thing  about  the  book  was  its  militant  and  aggressive 
Christianity.  The  author  was  evidently  one  who  had  com- 
muned deeply  with  Jesus,  and  had  drawn  from  his  commu- 
nion convictions  which  had  so  laid  hold  upon  his  spirit  as  to 
demand  utterance.  He  believed  that  the  gospel  of  Christ 
was  a  message  which  the  world  had  not  yet  outgrowTi,  and 
it  was  his  endeavor  to  justify  this  faith  by  showing  its  adap- 
tation to  the  present  needs  and  problems  of  men. 

A  book  wliich  presents  a  positive  message  in  a  form 
which  is  at  once  lucid  and  convincing  is  sure  to  find  readers, 
but  these  quaUties  alone  would  not  have  explained  the  suc- 
cess of  Doctor  Clarke's  Theology.  It  appeared  at  an  oppor- 
tune time  and  met  a  want  which  was  widely  felt  by  laymen 
as  well  as  by  ministers.  Many  who  had  broken  intellectually 
with  the  doctrinal  statements  of  the  past  still  felt  themselves 
at  home  emotionally  in  the  religious  values  which  they  sought 
to  express,  and  they  welcomed  this  new  statement  of  old 
truths  because  it  made  it  possible  for  them  to  preserve  their 
continuity  with  the  Christian  past,  without  the  sacrifice  of 
intellectual  consistency.  This  fact  gave  the  book  a  repre- 
sentative character.  It  was  an  index  registering  the  pres- 
ence of  deep  currents  in  the  religious  life  of  our  time,  and,  as 
such,  it  deserves  the  attention  of  all  who  are  interested  in 
the  study  of  contemporary  religion. 

In  the  present  article  we  propose  to  review  Doctor  Clarke's 
theology  with  a  view  to  discovering  wherein  its  representa- 
tive character  consists.  We  shall  take  for  the  basis  of  our 
discussion  his  most  recent  book,  the  Christian  Doctrine  of  God. 


THE  "THEOLOGY"   OF   DOCTOR  CLARKE     187 

In  this  closely  printed  octavo  of  some  four  hundred  and 
seventy-five  pages,  he  gives  a  systematic  exposition  of  the 
fundamental  principles  of  his  theology.  The  same  quaUties 
which  we  noted  in  his  earlier  work  reappear  here.  The  book 
is  at  once  lucid,  modern,  and  Christian,  but  the  treatment 
is  fuller,  and  the  reasoning  more  rigorous.  Much  that  the 
earlier  discussion  implied  is  here  fully  developed.  More  than 
one  untenable  position  has  been  abandoned.  No  recent  book 
by  an  English-speaking  theologian  reveals  more  clearly  the 
prevailing  tendency  and  controlling  spirit  of  modern  theo- 
logical thought. 

The  aim  which  the  author  sets  himself  can  be  stated  very 
simply.  It  is  to  present  a  conception  of  God  which  shall  be 
at  once  Christian  and  credible.  This  is  indeed  no  new  thing; 
it  is  what  Christian  theology  has  always  been  attempting. 
The  originality  of  Doctor  Clarke's  treatment  consists  in  the 
way  in  which  he  solves  his  problem  in  detail. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  the  idea  of  God  which- he  presents 
is  Christian.    By  this  he  means  that  it  is  consistent  with  the 
spirit  and  teaching  of  Jesus,  the  founder  of  Christianity.    It 
is  not  an  idea  of  God  which  we  gain  through  modern  science 
primarily  and  then  baptize  with  the  name  Christian  for  the 
purpose  of  convenience.    It  is  an  idea  which  in  its  essenrial 
features  grows  out  of  the  historic  revelation  recorded  in  the 
Bible  and  which,  as  such,  can  be  scientifically  defined  and 
tested.    A  considerable  part  of  Doctor  Clarke's  introduction 
is  devoted  to  the  study  of  the  historic  sources  of  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine,  as  they  are  found  in  Jesus'  life  and  teaching. 
This  does  not  mean  that  our  author  undertakes  to  reproduce 
Jesus'  teaching  concerning  God  in  detail.     Such  an  attempt, 
even  if  successful,  would  not  accomplish  the  purpose  which 
he  has  in  mind,  which  is  to  present  an  idea  of  God  which 
shall  be  intelligible  to  modern  men.    The  language  in  which 
Jesus  expressed  his  faith  in  God  is  very  different  from  that  of 
Doctor  Clarke's  Theology.  -  It  is  the  language  of  popular  re- 


i88  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

ligion,  not  of  scientific  thought.  It  has  for  its  background 
the  world-view  of  the  older  Judaism,  a  view  in  which  the 
earth  was  regarded  as  the  centre  of  the  universe;  where  the 
existence  of  spirits,  good  and  evil,  was  everywhere  assumed; 
where  human  history  was  compressed  within  a  few  thousand 
years,  and  the  final  catastrophe  with  which  it  was  to  close 
was  believed  to  be  imminent.  This  view  of  the  world  neces- 
sarily affected  Jesus'  method  of  stating  his  doctrine;  but  it 
must  not  be  identified  with  it.  Jesus  does  not  give  us  a  meta- 
physical theory  of  God  which  stands  or  falls  with  a  particu- 
lar philosophy  of  the  universe.  He  describes  him  in  moral 
and  religious  terms,  capable  of  appHcation  to  very  different 
intellectual  surroundings  and  needing  to  be  constantly  rein- 
terpreted, in  view  of  the  changes  in  contemporary  science 
and  philosophy.  Such  an  interpretation  Doctor  Clarke  un- 
dertakes to  give.  "By  the  Christian  doctrine  of  God,"  he 
tells  us,  "is  meant,  in  the  present  discussion,  the  conception 
of  God  which  Christian  faith  and  thought  propose  for  the 
present  time,  in  view  of  the  Bible  and  of  history,  and  of  all 
sound  knowledge  and  experience,  interpreted  in  the  light  of 
Jesus  Christ,  the  revealer.  It  is  a  doctrine  concerning  which 
we  can  say  at  the  point  at  which  we  now  stand,  that  it  is  true 
if  Jesus  Christ  does  reveal  God  truly"  (p.  4). 

The  position  here  assigned  to  Jesus  illustrates  a  prevailing 
tendency  in  contemporary  religious  thought.  In  a  sense  far 
higher  and  truer  than  was  the  case  with  the  older  theology 
modern  theology  makes  the  person  of  Jesus  normative  for 
its  thought  of  God.  The  old  theology  constructed  its  doctrine 
of  Christ's  person  in  the  light  of  a  preconceived  conception 
of  God.  Jesus  was  two  persons  in  one  nature,  a  God  who 
for  the  time  had  assumed  the  form  of  man,  but  whose  real 
nature  was  unaffected  thereby.  Modern  theology  thinks 
of  Jesus  as  a  man,  but  a  man  through  whom  God's  spirit  has 
found  such  complete  expression  that  it  is  possible  to  see  in 
his  character  the  perfect  revelation  of  the  heart  of  God.    To 


THE  "THEOLOGY"   OF  DOCTOR  CLARKE     189 

believe  in  God,  as  modem  theology  conceives  of  him,  means 
to  extend  throughout  the  range  of  universal  experience  that 
same  gracious  purpose  and  consistent  character  which  Jesus 
has  revealed  within  the  conditions  of  a  human  hfe. 

Two  consequences  follow  from  this  principle.  The  first 
is,  that  theology  must  take  its  departure  from  the  character 
of  God  rather  than  from  those  metaphysical  attributes  which 
express  his  relation  to  the  universe,  and  which  are  therefore 
necessarily  affected  by  changes  in  contemporary  thought. 
The  second  is,  that  it  must  seek  to  conceive  this  character 
in  a  way  that  is  consistent  with  the  moral  and  religious 
teaching  of  Jesus. 

Both  these  conclusions  Doctor  Clarke  draws.  Unlike 
the  older  theologians,  he  begins  his  exposition  of  the  idea  of 
God  by  a  description  of  his  character,  and  then  goes  on  to 
develop  God's  relation  to  men  and  to  the  universe.  In  his 
picture  of  the  divine  character  he  gives  the  central  place  to 
the  qualities  which  Jesus  himself  made  central  in  his  own 
thought  of  God.  Like  Jesus,  he  emphasizes  the  outgoing 
love  of  God,  the  Father  who  is  ever  ready  to  receive  the 
prodigal,  and  whose  gracious  purpose  anticipates  the  need 
of  his  children.  Like  Jesus,  he  emphasizes  the  extent  of 
God's  mercy,  a  mercy  which  reaches  the  outcasts  whom  the 
law  has  rejected,  and  finds  more  joy  in  the  repentance  of  one 
sinner  than  in  ninety  and  nine  just  persons  who  need  no  re- 
pentance. Like  Jesus,  finally,  he  emphasizes  the  consis- 
tency of  God's  character,  the  God  who  maketh  his  sun  to  rise 
on  the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sendeth  rain  on  the  unjust 
and  the  just. 

I  say,  he  emphasizes  the  consistency  of  God's  character. 
It  is  at  this  point  that  his  departure  from  the  older  theology 
appears  most  clearly.  The  terms  which  Doctor  Clarke  uses 
are  those  familiar  to  historic  Christian  theology,  holiness, 
wisdom,  and  love,  but  the  meaning  which  our  author  puts 
into  them  is  in  many  respects  new,  and  the  relations  which 


I90  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

they  sustain  one  to  another  have  undergone  significant 
change.  To  the  older  theology  holiness  and  love  represented 
independent  elements  in  the  divine  nature,  each  requiring 
its  own  appropriate  gratification.  The  former  expressed  tlie 
opposition  of  the  righteous  God  to  sinful  man,  an  opposition 
which  required  the  punishment  of  all  unrepented  sin;  the 
latter  expressed  his  gracious  purpose  to  redeem  his  elect 
through  the  forgiveness  of  their  sins.  Here  we  have  to  do 
with  two  apparently  inconsistent,  if  not  contradictory,  im- 
pulses, and  the  chief  problem  of  the  theologian  was  to  dis- 
cover the  way  in  which  this  inconsistency  could  be  overcome, 
and  the  love  of  God  gratified,  consistently  with  his  holiness. 
This,  as  we  all  know,  was  accomplished  through  the  atone- 
ment of  Christ. 

Doctor  Clarke  is  conscious  of  no  such  problem.  To  him 
holiness  denotes  simply  the  moral  excellence  of  God,  and  love 
is  the  method  in  which  this  moral  excellence  comes  to  its 
completest  expression.  There  is  no  inconsistency  between 
them,  for  there  is  no  independent  end  which  the  holiness  of 
God  sets  for  itself,  as  distinct  from  his  love.  God  is  not  holy 
when  he  punishes  and  loving  when  he  forgives,  as  in  the  older 
Calvinism.  God  is  holy  in  his  love,  and  loving  in  his  holiness. 
He  is  not  gracious  to  some  men  and  just  to  others,  but  always 
and  everywhere  both  just  and  gracious.  His  attitude  toward 
every  man  is  that  of  the  father  in  Jesus'  parable  of  the  prodi- 
gal. As  man's  father,  truly  akin  to  him  in  spirit,  it  is  his 
supreme  desire  to  conform  his  child  to  himself,  and  this  de- 
sire is  the  explanation  of  all  that  he  does.  Whether  he  pun- 
ish or  forgive,  it  is  but  a  step  in  his  supreme  purpose  of  re- 
demption. 

This  conception  of  God's  character  gives  unity  to  Doctor 
Clarke's  theology.  It  frees  it  from  the  inconsistency  and  ex- 
ceptions which  meet  us  so  frequently  in  the  theology  of  the 
past.  The  dualism  which  was  so  characteristic  a  feature  of 
the  older  Calvinism,  and  which  expressed  itself  in  the  con- 


THE   "THEOLOGY"   OF   DOCTOR   CLARKE     191 

trast  between  reason  and  revelation,  nature  and  the  super- 
natural, law  and  grace,  has  disappeared  for  Doctor  Clarke. 
To  him  revelation  is  not  the  disclosure  of  an  aspect  of  God's 
character,  otherwise  unknowable,  but  only  the  clearer  mani- 
festation of  that  which  God  has  always  been  and  of  which, 
from  the  first,  men  have  had  more  or  less  clear  anticipations. 
As  a  spiritual  being,  man  is  fitted  by  nature  to  receive  the 
divine  revelation.  Revelation  is  not  the  impartation  by 
supernatural  process  of  mysteries  transcending  the  reason  of 
man;  it  is  the  manifestation  of  spirit  to  spirit,  and  the  recip- 
ient recognizes  in  the  disclosure  which  comes  to  him  from 
God  not  simply  the  revelation  of  the  divine  nature,  but  also 
the  complete  satisfaction  of  ideals  of  which  he  has  long  been 
conscious  within  himself.  As  the  book  which  gives  us  the 
revelation  of  Jesus,  the  ideal  man,  God's  complete  self-mani- 
festation in  humanity,  the  Bible  is  indeed  a  unique  book. 
But  it  is  not  God's  first  or  only  revelation,  even  on  the  side 
of  God's  love.  From  the  beginning  God  has  written  his 
gracious  purpose  in  the  heart  of  man,  and  the  disclosure 
which  he  has  made  of  himself  in  Christ  is  recognized  by 
those  to  whom  it  comes  as  the  fulfilment  of  their  own  inner 
prophecy. 

Redemption,  in  like  manner,  is  not  to  be  conceived  as  an 
exception  to  God's  ordinary  working,  but  rather  as  the  nor- 
mal method  of  his  activity.  It  is  not  confined  to  a  group, 
larger  or  smaller,  whom  God  has  arbitrarily  chosen  from  the 
rest,  that  he  may  make  them  the  subjects  of  his  redemptive 
activity,  but  concerns  all  mankind  alike,  though  in  different 
order  and  degree.  All  history  is  part  of  a  single  process,  in 
which  God  is  training  men  for  membership  in  his  kingdom. 
In  other  words,  all  history  is  the  history  of  redemption. 
Doctor  Clarke  does  not  indeed  explicitly  state  that  all  in- 
dividuals will  be  saved,  but  that  is  the  natural  implication 
of  his  discussion.  If  any  one  is  lost,  it  will  be  because  of  his 
own  free  choice.    But  the  fiber tarian  fimitation  which  alone 


192  WILLIAM   NEWTON  CLARKE 

can  avoid  the  conclusion  of  universalism  is  unacceptable  to 
the  author.  Hard  as  it  may  be  for  us  to  understand,  man's 
freedom  must  somehow  be  consistent  with  the  divine  deter- 
mination. By  moral  means,  to  be  sure,  yet  in  the  end,  God 
must  control,  and  we  may  be  certain  that  he  will  have  his 
way  with  every  child  of  man. 

This  desire  for  ethical  consistency  appears  instructively 
in  Doctor  Clarke's  treatment  of  the  trinity.  To  the  older 
Protestantism,  as  is  well  knowTi,  the  trinity  had  to  do  with 
inner  distinctions  in  the  nature  of  God  himself,  distinctions 
rendered  necessary  in  order  to  overcome  the  fundamental 
ethical  dualism  to  which  we  have  already  referred.  Accord- 
ing to  Calvin,  God  is  able  to  harmonize  the  conflict  of  the 
claims  of  justice  and  mercy  in  his  own  character,  because  as 
the  second  person  of  the  trinity,  the  representative  of  mercy, 
he  is  able  to  bear  the  penalty  inflicted  by  himself  as  the  first 
person,  the  representative  of  justice.  These  ontological  dis- 
tinctions have  lost  their  meaning  for  our  author.  The  trinity 
is  a  truth  of  the  Christian  experience.  The  distinctions  with 
which  it  deals  concern  man  rather  than  Gk)d.  They  express 
different  aspects  in  which  God  manifests  himself  to  us  as  we 
contemplate  the  diff'erent  phases  of  his  redemptive  activity. 
He  manifests  himself  in  the  order  of  nature,  the  natural  proc- 
esses which  are  the  necessary  presuppositions  of  the  re- 
ligious experience.  He  manifests  himself  in  historical  reve- 
lation and  supremely  in  Jthe  person  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord. 
He  manifests  himself,  finally,  in  that  personal  experience 
through  which  we  apprehend  Jesus  as  the  revelation  of  the 
God  of  all  the  world.  Here  we  have  three  types  of  religion 
which  correspond  in  a  measure  to  the  three  historic  doc- 
trines: natural  religion,  "or  the  religion  of  God  as  he  is  known 
in  the  order  of  the  world;  historical  religion,  or  religion  which 
finds  its  support  in  the  historical  manifestations  of  God  in 
events  of  time;  personal  religion,  spiritual,  experimental, 
mystical,  that  knows  God  in  the  soul"  (p.  247).    In  all  three 


THE  "THEOLOGY"  OF  DOCTOR  CLARKE     193 

aspects,  it  is  the  same  gracious  God  who  is  revealed.  The 
tragic  contrast  between  the  demand  of  justice  and  the  appeal 
of  mercy,  which  gives  dramatic  interest  to  the  older  doctrine, 
has  completely  disappeared. 

Such,  then,  is  Doctor  Clarke's  God,  a  God  ethically  con- 
sistent in  all  that  he  does,  committed  with  all  the  intensity 
of  his  moral  nature  to  the  redemptive  purpose  which  Jesus 
has  revealed,  and  strong  enough  and  wise  enough  to  insure 
the  realization  of  this  purpose  in  spite  of  every  obstacle. 

I  say  strong  enough  to  insure  the  reahzation  of  his  pur- 
pose in  spite  of  every  obstacle.  With  this  we  touch  a  second 
aspect  of  Doctor  Clarke's  view,  which  needs  emphasis,  namely, 
the  fact  that  he  attributes  to  this  idea  of  God  universal  va- 
lidity. According  to  our  author  Jesus'  God  is  the  God  of  the 
universe.  When  we  raise  philosophy's  ancient  question  as 
to  the  ultimate  explanation  of  the  varied  phenomena  of  the 
world,  we  find  the  only  satisfying  answer  in  the  Christian 
idea  of  God.  The  so-called  metaphysical  attributes  of  God 
— infinity,  eternity,  omnipresence,  and  the  like — are  only  so 
many  different  ways  of  asserting  this  simple  truth. 

Doctor  Clarke's  proof  of  this  thesis  occupies  the  last  two 
sections  of  his  book.  The  first,  which  treats  of  God  and  the 
universe,  is  expository  in  nature.  It  explains  in  detail  what 
is  the  relation  between  God  and  the  world  which  Christian 
faith  assumes.  The  second  gives  the  reason  for  believing  that 
this  faith  is  justified  in  fact. 

It  is  not  possible  for  us  to  follow  the  argument  in  detail. 
In  substance,  it  reduces  to  this,  that  the  quaUties  which  we 
find  essential  in  the  Christian  idea  of  God  are  so  inwrought 
into  the  structure  of  the  universe  that  it  is  natural  to  assume 
that  it  has  the  Christian  God  for  its  author.  The  universe 
is  not  something  alien  to  man  with  which  he  connects  him- 
self, as  if  it  were  an  existence  of  a  different  kind.  "The 
human  race  is  part  and  parcel  of  the  universe,  for  it  has  grown 
up  out  of  the  life  which  was  before  it  on  the  earth.  .  .  .    We 


194  WILLL\M  NEWTON   CLARKE 

have  to  do  not  with  a  late-born  race  planted  from  the  out- 
side in  a  Httle  world,  but  an  ancient  race  which  is  of  one  sub- 
stance with  the  universe,  while  its  true  life  is  in  the  powers 
of  the  spirit  which  reach  out  to  that  which  is  above"  (p.  371). 
"It  is  plain  that  if  this  conception  of  the  relation  between 
man  and  the  world  be  true,  no  partial  idea  of  God  can  satisfy 
humanity.  We  cannot  think  of  him  except  as  universal  in 
his  relations.  He  must  be  one  God  equally  related  to  all 
souls  and  to  all  existences"  (ibid.).  Clearly,  then,  if  the 
Christian  idea  of  God  be  true,  we  should  expect  to  find  evi- 
dence for  it  not  only  in  the  spiritual  nature  of  man,  but  in 
the  universe,  which  is  at  once  its  home  and  its  school. 

Such  e\'idence  Doctor  Clarke  beHeves  that  we  find.  It  is 
of  two  kinds,  rational  and  spiritual.  The  former  consists  in 
the  response  which  the  universe  makes  to  our  efforts  at  ra- 
tional explanation.  The  second,  in  the  satisfaction  which  it 
yields  to  the  demands  of  our  moral  and  religious  nature. 

These  arguments  have  a  familiar  sound.  They  seem  to  be 
only  the  well-known  teleological  and  moral  arguments  in  a 
new  dress.  But  closer  examination  shows  that  this  is  only  in 
part  true.  The  older  theologians  used  the  evidence  from  de- 
sign and  the  argument  from  conscience  to  estabhsh  the  exis- 
tence of  a  rational  and  a  moral  God,  but  they  were  persuaded 
that  these  arguments  alone  were  inadequate  to  establish 
faith  in  a  God  of  love;  hence  they  supplemented  the  rational 
arguments  by  supernatural  revelation.  The  dualism  al- 
ready referred  to  in  connection  with  the  idea  of  God  reap- 
pears in  the  proof  of  his  existence.  Doctor  Clarke,  as  we 
have  seen,  is  unwilling  to  accept  this  limitation.  Since  the 
God  in  whom  he  believes  is  everywhere  loving  as  well  as  holy, 
we  should  expect  to  find  evidence  of  his  love  wherever  his 
activity  extends,  and  this  Doctor  Clarke  believes  to  be  the 
case.  The  argument  from  reason  does  not  lead  us  to  the 
door  of  Christianity  and  then  stop;  it  is  valid  all  along  the 
line.    The  demand  which  we  find  within  ourselves  for  a  ra- 


THE   "THEOLOGY"   OF   DOCTOR   CLARKE     195 

tional  explanation  of  things  finds  its  satisfaction  only  in  the 
kind  of  God  that  Jesus  Christ  reveals.  When  we  have  come 
to  think  of  God  as  Jesus  did,  and  turn  back  to  the  universe, 
we  find  that  all  its  elements  fall  into  place  as  parts  of  the 
consistent  plan,  and  mysteries  which  would  otherwise  baffle 
our  reason  find  in  him  their  solution. 

The  uniformity  of  nature,  with  its  results  in  undeserved 
suffering  becomes  the  means  which  the  Father  uses  for  the 
training  of  his  children  in  courage  and  faith.  The  spiritual 
aspirations  of  man  which  seem  so  often  in  irreconcilable  con- 
flict with  reality  are  to  the  Christian  evidences  of  a  divine 
sonship  which  finds  in  God,  and  in  God  alone,  its  complete 
satisfaction.  So  the  Christian  idea  of  God  proves  every- 
where a  unifying  conception.  It  harmonizes  all  the  unre- 
lated elements  in  our  thinking  and  in  our  feeling.  It  gives 
us,  for  the  first  time,  a  consistent  universe,  and  there  is  no 
other  idea  which  does  this  with  the  same  success. 

Here,  too,  the  position  taken  by  Doctor  Clarke  is  typical. 
In  rejecting  the  dualism  of  the  older  apology,  and  relying 
for  his  proof  of  the  Christian  God  upon  evidence  similar  in 
kind  to  that  of  which  we  make  use  in  other  fields  of  experi- 
ence, he  is  in  touch  with  the  prevailing  spirit  in  contempo- 
rary theology. 

But  at  this  point  our  author  is  confronted  with  the  fact 
of  evil,  that  bafi3ing  and  mysterious  experience  which  has 
made  shipwreck  of  so  many  philosophies.  The  test  of  every 
theology  is  its  treatment  of  this  problem,  and  Doctor  Clarke's 
method  is  characteristic  of  the  man.  There  are  three  possi- 
ble attitudes  which  one  may  take  to  the  problem  of  evil,  no 
one  of  which  satisfies  our  author.  One  may  minimize  its  im- 
portance, question  the  account  which  it  gives  of  itself,  explain 
away  its  apparent  harshness  and  cruelty,  cloak  its  seeming 
vice  in  the  garb  of  an  unsuspected  virtue,  and  thus  by  a  proc- 
ess of  ingenious  reinterpretation  bow  it  politely  out  of  the 
world.    Or  one  may  recognize  evil  for  what  it  seems  to  be, 


196  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

something  real  and  terrible,  and  account  for  its  existence 
through  the  hypothesis  of  a  rival  power,  limiting  and — to  a 
greater  or  less  degree — thwarting  the  purpose  of  a  good  God. 
Or,  finally,  still  taking  it  at  its  face  value,  one  may  yet  sub- 
ject it  to  God's  power  and  find  place  for  it  within  his  pur- 
pose. This  was  the  method  taken  by  the  older  Calvinism. 
Calvinism,  as  is  well  known,  saw  in  sin  the  means  through 
which  God's  justice  found  an  expression  possible  in  no  other 
way,  and  because  the  manifestation  of  justice  was  inherently 
excellent,  whatever  was  necessary  to  make  this  manifesta- 
tion possible  could  be  ethically  justified.  This  is  the  phi- 
losophy of  Jonathan  Edwards's  famous  sermon  on  "Sinners 
in  the  Hands  of  an  Angry  God." 

No  one  of  these  solutions  satisfies  our  author.  Evil  in 
each  one  of  its  three  great  forms,  pain,  sin,  and  death,  is  to 
him  something  real  and  terrible,  something  to  be  shunned 
and  fought  and  ultimately  overcome,  but  it  is  not  indepen- 
dent of  God,  nor  an  intruder  in  the  universe  which  he  has  made. 
Ev-il  is  a  part  of  the  structure  of  the  world.  It  is  inwrought 
into  the  nature  of  things.  It  will  have  its  place  in  the  life  to 
come,  as  well  as  the  life  here,  for  it  is  here  with  a  purpose, 
and,  as  the  older  Calvinism  rightly  affirms,  it  ministers  to  the 
glory  of  God.  But  the  purpose,  as  Doctor  Clarke  conceives 
it,  is  very  different  from  that  discovered  by  Jonathan  Ed- 
wards. It  is  a  purpose  of  redemption.  Evil  is  here  because 
without  it  man  cannot  be  trained  in  the  highest  moral  excel- 
lence. A  world  in  which  evil  had  intruded  against  the  will  of 
God  would  be  intolerable  to  Christian  faith,  but  a  world  in 
which  God  uses  evil  for  his  wise  and  beneficent  purpose  is  a 
world  in  which  the  Christian  can  feel  at  home.  Our  diffi- 
culty consists  in  the  fact  that  the  training  is  so  incomplete. 
There  is  so  much  evil  which  seems  to  yield  no  outcome  in 
character.  If  every  cross  were  a  Calvary,  the  burden  would 
be  lightened,  for  we  should  see  then  what  we  only  suspect 
now,  the  end  which  it  is  designed  to  serve.     "If  we  could 


THE   "THEOLOGY"  OF  DOCTOR   CLARKE     197 

confidently  include  the  vast  movement  of  sin  between  a  God- 
worthy  origin  and  a  Godworthy  outcome  we  might  still  sadly 
wonder  on  the  way,  but  we  could  rest  in  hope"  (p.  461). 

It  is  at  this  point  that  Doctor  Clarke's  position  is  most 
certain  to  be  attacked.    Most  readers  will  be  ready  to  admit 
that  the  idea  of  God  which  our  author  presents  is  Christian 
in  the  sense  in  which  he  makes  the  claim.     The  difficulty 
arises  when  we  attempt  to  reconcile  the  idea  of  such  a  God 
with  the  facts  of  fife  as  we  find  them.     Those  who  demand 
logical  demonstration  before  they  are  ready  to  beUeve  will 
naturally  find  the  evidence  for  Doctor  Clarke's  thesis  uncon- 
vincing.   Calvin's  doctrine  of  God  was  easy  by  comparison. 
He  saw  all  things  in  the  worid  tending  to  a  double  issue,  and 
he  affirmed  what  he  saw  to  be  final  truth.    But  to  believe  that 
our  entire  universe,  filled  as  it  is  with  countless  miseries, 
with  ruthless  cruelties,  with  diabolical  perversities,  is  really 
under  the  control  of  a  being  in  character  Hke  Jesus;   that  this 
supreme  power  will  some  day  guide  it  to  an  end  which  is  good; 
that  some  day  all  mankind  shall  be  organized  into  one  great 
brotherhood;   that  service  shall  be   the  universal  law   and 
ministry  the  test  of  greatness— this  is  indeed  to  make  an 
heroic  venture  of  faith.     "Doctor  Clarke,"  caustically  re- 
marks a  recent  reviewer,  "has  succeeded  in  drawing  a  picture 
of  God  to  which  we  feel  no  moral  repugnance.    But  there  is 
one  most  important  attribute  which  he  has  omitted  from  the 
sketch,  and  that  is  the  attribute  of  non-existence.     Experi- 
ence of  the  worid  does  not  lend  the  slightest  plausibility  to 
the  theistic  hypothesis  as  to  its  origin." 

Such  an  objection  altogether  misconceives  the  kind  of 
evidence  upon  which  religion  relies  for  its  proof.  Religion  is 
the  child  of  faith,  and  faith  is  never  confined  to  the  present. 
It  reaches  out  for  that  which  is  not  yet,  and  affirms  that  it 
shall  yet  be  true.  Heroism  is  its  native  atmosphere,  adven- 
ture its  vital  breath.  To  believe  in  God  means  ever>'^vhere 
and  always  to  identify  one's  own  highest  ideal  with  ultimate 


198  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

reality.  It  means  to  rise  above  sense  to  the  spirit,  which  is 
only  in  part  revealed  through  it,  and  to  be  persuaded  that  this 
partial  revelation  shall  some  day  be  complete.  Every  man 
who  has  really  believed  in  God  has  made  such  a  venture.  He 
has  assumed  the  reaUty  of  the  ideal  and  lived  in  anticipation 
of  a  future  only  in  part  revealed.  He  has  dared  to  believe 
that  the  world  that  now  presents  only  the  raw  material  of 
goodness  and  truth  shall  become  a  fit  habitation  for  reason- 
able and  moral  beings.  He  has  done  it  because  he  could  not 
help  it,  because  without  such  an  assumption  life  would  not 
have  seemed  worth  living,  and  because,  when  it  was  made, 
facts  otherwise  inexplicable  fitted  into  place  and  the  world 
became  unified  and  consistent. 

Is  it  reasonable  to  do  this?  From  the  individual  point  of 
view  it  is  certainly  most  reasonable.  Those  who,  like  our 
author,  hold  the  Christian  idea  of  God  because  it  satisfies 
the  deepest  needs  of  their  own  souls  have  no  option  but  to 
assert  its  ultimate  validity.  Such  a  faith  brings  harmony 
into  life  where  it  would  otherwise  be  discordant  by  promising 
ultimate  victory  to  those  ideals  which  seem  supremely  worth- 
ful.  It  assures  those  who  are  giving  their  lives  to  minister 
to  human  need  in  all  its  various  forms  that  their  labors  will 
not  be  wasted  or  their  energies  misspent.  If  the  Calvinistic 
idea  of  God  satisfied  those  who  held  it,  it  was  because  the  age 
in  which  they  lived  was  an  age  of  battle,  when  men  were  on 
trial  for  their  lives  and  for  that  which  they  held  dearer  than 
life,  the  truth  of  God.  If  this  idea  no  longer  satisfies  us,  it  is 
because  other  virtues  hold  a  more  prominent  place  in  our 
horizon.  Our  ideal  is  one  of  peace,  not  of  war.  We  are  less 
concerned  to  conserve  than  to  impart,  and  the  God  who  cares 
for  the  downcast  and  oppressed  of  every  race  and  tribe  is  the 
only  God  who  can  satisfy  an  age  which  has  witnessed  the 
birth  of  modern  philanthropy  and  of  modern  missions. 

Are  we,  then,  shut  up  to  purely  subjective  e\adence? 
Can  nothing  be  said  for  this  idea  of  God  but  that  it  satisfies 


THE   "THEOLOGY"   OF   DOCTOR   CLARKE     199 

the  individual  need?  Is  there  no  objective  standard  by 
which  it  can  be  judged,  no  social  argument  in  favor  of  its 
vahdity? 

The  missionary  activity  of  the  Christian  church  is  the 
best  answer  to  this  question.  It  is  the  expression  of  the  con- 
viction held  by  every  sincere  Christian  that  the  response 
which  the  Christian  idea  of  God  calls  forth  in  his  own  soul 
is  not  a  purely  individual  matter,  but  is  the  answer  to  com- 
mon social  needs  which  can  find  their  satisfaction  in  no  other 
way.  To  the  extent  to  which  this  faith  shall  prove  justified 
in  fact,  the  weight  of  the  argument  for  the  Christian  God  will 
be  transferred  from  the  experience  of  the  individual  to  that 
of  the  race. 

For  those  who  look  at  the  subject  from  this  point  of  view 
there  is  much  in  the  outlook  that  is  encouraging.  In  spite 
of  all  that  is  dark  and  selfish  in  human  life,  it  is  yet  a  fact  that 
the  altruistic  virtues  are  being  more  and  more  developed, 
and  the  ideals  of  war  yielding  place  to  those  of  peace.  The 
Christian  message  of  brotherhood  and  service  is,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  fact,  finding  response  in  the  hearts  of  men.  The  very 
dissatisfaction  that  we  feel  at  our  shortcomings,  the  serious- 
ness of  the  criticism  to  which  our  social  order  is  being  sub- 
jected, is  the  best  evidence  of  the  fact  that  the  old  selfish  and 
particularistic  ideals  of  an  earlier  age  no  longer  satisfy  us. 
The  subjective  response  which  the  Christian  idea  of  God 
calls  forth  in  individuals  is  itself  the  result  and  evidence  of 
a  far-reaching  social  change  which  constitutes  no  small  argu- 
ment for  its  objective  vahdity.  It  is,  of  course,  always  possi- 
ble that  this  faith  may  prove  mistaken.  It  is  possible  that 
Calvinism  is  right  in  its  conception  of  a  divided  universe, 
and  that  we  may  be  obliged  to  renounce  as  an  idle  dream  our 
faith  in  the  good  God  whose  love  embraces  every  child  of 
man.  But,  if  this  be  true,  it  will  introduce  an  irreconcilable 
discord  into  our  inner  hfe.  If  our  ideals  are  to  be  justified 
in  the  real  world,  it  can  only  be  through  the  Christian  idea 


200  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

of  God.    It  is  reasonable,  therefore,  in  default  of  convincing 
evidence  to  the  contrary,  to  act  as  if  it  were  true. 

And  when  we  decide  so  to  act,  we  find  that  reality  answers 
our  expectation.  It  is  not  simply  that  we  ourselves  find  satis- 
faction in  our  faith,  although  that  is  true,  but  that  the  action 
which  results  from  that  faith  changes  the  social  en\droimient 
for  the  better.  Every  man  who  believes  in  the  Christlike 
God  and  who  acts  out  his  conviction  is  increasing  the  amount 
of  altruism  in  the  world  and  making  faith  in  such  a  God 
easier  to  those  who  have  not  yet  believed.  In  other  words, 
he  is  increasing  the  sum  total  of  evidence  in  favor  of  the 
truth  of  the  Christian  view. 


AN  AMERICAN  THEOLOGIAN  ^ 
By  Professor  William  Adams  Brown,  D.D. 

My  acquaintance  with  Doctor  Clarke  began  in  1893,  the 
year  in  which  my  own  work  as  a  teacher  of  theology  began. 
He  was  then  fifty-two  years  old  and  had  been  teaching  at 
Hamilton  Theological  Seminary  for  three  years.  I  was  a 
yomig  man  of  twenty-seven,  fresh  from  Germany,  where  I 
had  been  studying  under  Harnack. 

Our  acquaintance,  began  through  the  loan  of  a  volume  of 
typewritten  notes  which  he  generously  placed  at  my  dis- 
posal, soon  ripened  into  friendship  which  continued  without 
interruption  and  with  increasing  intimacy  until  Doctor 
Clarke's  death.  For  more  than  fifteen  years  we  carried  on  a 
regular,  and  at  times,  a  lengthy  correspondence.  During 
his  visits  to  New  York — less  frequent  than  his  friends  would 
have  wished — he  was  often  at  my  home,  and  many  a  day 
lives  in  my  memory  that  was  consecrated  to  high  debate 
about  the  great  themes  of  theology,  or  rendered  notable  by 
some  fresh  revelation  of  a  character  as  winning  as  it  was 
\drile  and  commanding. 

There  are  men  into  whose  intimacy  one  penetrates  slowly 
and  only  after  surmounting  barrier  after  barrier  of  reserve. 
Doctor  Clarke  was  so  transparent  and  generous  in  his  gift  of 

*  Five  years  ago  I  contributed  to  the  Harvard  Theological  Review  an  article 
on  the  theology  of  Doctor  Clarke,  in  which  I  tried  to  sum  up  the  leading  points 
of  his  teaching  and  to  estimate  their  significance  for  the  religious  life  and  think- 
ing of  his  time.  His  thought  was  at  that  time  so  mature,  and  his  expression  of 
it  so  ripe  and  balanced  that  little  remains  to  add  to  the  judgment  then  ex- 
pressed, and  I  have  therefore  willingly  given  my  consent  to  the  request  of  Mrs. 
Clarke  that  the  essay  should  be  reproduced  here.  But  Doctor  Clarke  was 
more  than  a  theologian.  He  was  a  character  of  singular  originality  and  fresh- 
ness, and  one  who  was  privileged  during  many  years  to  be  admitted  to  his 
intimacy  may  be  pardoned  for  wishing  to  add  to  the  theologian's  estimate 
of  a  colleague  a  few  words  of  personal  reminiscence. 


202  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

self  that  from  the  first  one  felt  oneself  at  home  in  his  pres- 
ence. "I  cannot  tell  you,"  he  writes  in  the  first  letter  that 
came  to  me  from  his  pen,^  "how  glad  I  am  that  you  have 
found  my  notes  suggestive  and  helpful,  or  how  free  you  are 
to  make  all  the  use  of  them  that  you  may  desire.  I  hereby 
place  at  your  service  all  the  good  there  may  be  in  my  pages. 
It  would  be  a  pity  if  one  teacher  could  not  help  another." 

This  note  of  generosity  was  characteristic  of  all  his  rela- 
tionships. With  a  mind  constantly  open  to  new  truth,  he  was 
ever  eager  to  share  what  he  received.  "Moral  copyright  in 
theology,"  he  once  wrote,^  "is  a  hard  thing  to  get  hold  of,  and 
I  make  small  claim  to  it." 

He  had  the  friend's  gift  for  receiving  as  well  as  for  giving. 
He  was  never  too  busy  to  be  accessible  to  your  interest. 
Even  when  you  did  not  hear  from  him  you  knew  that  you 
were  in  his  thoughts.  Apologizing  for  a  letter  which  he  had 
failed  to  write,  he  adds: '  "But  I  did  welcome  you  home  in 
my  heart."  And  again  referring  to  a  friendly  impulse  unex- 
pressed:^ "You  may  as  well  forgive  me  first  as  last.  I  am 
sure  I  don't  know,"  he  adds  plaintively,^  "why  I  do  not  learn 
wisdom.  I  am  quite  familiar  with  the  fact  that  the  past  is 
farther  off  than  I  then  thought  it  was,  but  why  I  am  so  slow 
to  perceive  that  any  right  deed  of  mine  in  the  future  is  far- 
ther away  than  it  seems  is  beyond  my  understanding." 

Much  of  our  correspondence  deals  with  matters  of  techni- 
cal interest.  The  early  loan  was  the  first  of  an  exchange  of 
manuscripts  which  continued  for  many  years  and  led  to  de- 
tailed and  often  voluminous  correspondence.  Long  before 
my  own  books  found  their  way  into  print  the  rough  drafts 
which  were  their  predecessors  had  the  benefit  of  his  sympa- 
thetic and  highly  intelligent  criticism.  Nothing  could  be 
kinder  or  wiser  than  the  advice  which  came  to  me  from  his 
more  experienced  pen,  and  no  father  could  have  rejoiced 

•December  21,  1893.  *  September  26,  1896.         'February  19,  1905. 

•  February  3,  1906.  »  April  9,  1897. 


AN  AMERICAN  THEOLOGIAN  203 

more  whole-heartedly  in  the  progress  of  his  son  than  he  in 
any  evidence  of  deepening  insight  and  maturing  judgment 
on  the  part  of  his  younger  colleague. 

When  he  did  not  like  a  thing  he  told  you  so  frankly,  sof- 
tening his  dissent  with  a  saving  touch  of  humor.  Of  a  defini- 
tion of  inspiration  he  wrote:*  "It  shows  traces  of  medita- 
tion. It  did  not  grow  up  in  a  night  like  Jonah's  gourd." 
And  again:  ^  "You  tend  to  put  too  much  into  a  sentence — 
a  tendency  that  specially  appears  in  sentences  beginning  with 
'while' — where  you  sometimes  pack  in  two  philosophies." 

Frank  in  his  criticism  of  others,  he  was  unsparing  with 
himself.  All  his  work  was  a  report  of  progress.  In  a  letter 
asking  for  suggestions  while  his  Theology  was  passing  through 
the  press,  he  said:  ^  "They  will  come  too  late  to  benefit  the 
book,  but  the  book  is  not  the  end  but  only  the  beginning." 
To  all  criticism  he  turned  a  hospitable  mind,  but  he  weighed 
each  suggestion  well  before  he  adopted  it.  He  was  not  too 
proud  to  learn  from  men  younger  and  less  experienced  than 
himself.  Indeed  there  was  a  buoyancy  in  his  nature  which 
rendered  him  peculiarly  at  home  in  their  company.  He 
liked  their  optimism,  their  self-confidence,  the  forward  look. 

From  vanity,  in  the  conventional  sense,  and  indeed  from 
self-consciousness  in  any  form  he  was  of  all  men  I  have  ever 
known  the  most  free.  He  knew  his  limitations  and  was  not 
ashamed  to  confess  them.  One  of  his  last  letters^  speaks 
with  a  certain  wistful  regret  of  a  training  to  which  he  was  a 
stranger,  the  lack  of  which  made  many  things  impossible  to 
him.  But  withal  he  was  too  truthful  to  depreciate  himself. 
He  felt  that  he  had  a  contribution  to  make  to  the  thought  of 
his  generation,  a  message  given  him  to  speak.  "I  am  sure," 
he  writes,^  "that  you  will  find  enough  to  dissent  from  in 
the  first  draft  of  the  Theology,  and  you  will  find  much  that  I 
intend  to  make  better  before  I  use  the  matter  again.    But  I 

'March  14,  1899.  ^  ^pril  22,  1897.  » May  i,  1894. 

♦November  18,  1906.  '  December  21,  1893. 


204  WILLIAIM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

know  that  the  work  in  its  present  form,  with  all  its  defects, 
is  the  fruit  of  honest  thinking,  in  view  of  some  at  least  of  the 
present  conditions."  The  consciousness  never  failed  him. 
Rather  it  intensified  with  the  ripening  years.  Speaking  of 
his  Christian  Doctrine  of  God,  he  says:'  "It  has  lately 
seemed  to  me  that  I  have  something  to  say  on  the  great 
theme,  and  sometimes  I  have  said  to  myself  that  if  I  could 
successfully  work  out  what  I  have  in  mind  I  could  make  an 
epoch-marking  book.  Note  that  I  put  the  *r'  in  that  word, 
not  leave  it  out." 

He  was  a  slow  worker.  He  preferred  to  let  his  thought 
ripen  naturally  under  the  enriching  and  fertihzing  influence 
of  the  years.  Hurry  he  abhorred  as  a  deadly  sin.  "I  have 
no  very  rigid  plan,"  he  writes  on  one  occasion,^  "but  intend 
to  let  the  work  develop  as  it  goes."  And  again:  "I  am  in- 
cKned  to  approve  your  point.  Still  I  cannot  hurry  to  find 
the  connection."  Often  he  had  to  wait  long  before  the  assur- 
ance came.  This  was  due  in  part  to  the  bodily  infirmity 
from  which  he  suffered  increasingly  in  later  life.  "So  much, 
which  is  quite  enough,  about  myself  regarded  as  mortal,"  he 
writes.^  "My  immortal  powers  are  not  idle,  for  I  am  bend- 
ing as  best  I  may  to  the  theme  that  is  worthiest  of  them,  the 
Christian  Doctrine  of  God.'"  After  referring  to  the  difficulty 
he  had  found  in  coming  to  the  place  where  he  could  work 
with  ease  and  fluency,  he  speaks  of  his  joy  in  the  renewed 
freedom  which  had  recently  come  to  him.  "Somehow,"  he 
goes  on,''  "I  have  not  felt  Hke  talking  it  over  much  or  dis- 
cussing it  with  any  one,  but  have  felt  that  I  must  work  it  out 
myself." 

This  independence  was  eminently  characteristic.  Like 
Paul,  he  was  not  comfortable  on  another  man's  foundation. 
Speaking  of  his  book  on  God,  he  said:^  "It  will  be  a  dif- 
ferent book  from  what  any  one  else  would  make."    Like  Paul, 

'  February  3,  1906.      '  September  21,  tSgy.      '  February  3,  1906. 
*  February  3,  1906.      *  November  18,  1906. 


AN  AMERICAN   THEOLOGIAN  205 

too,  he  felt  little  need  of,  and  little  taste  for,  letters  of  com- 
mendation. "I  was  a  little  ashamed  and  sorry,"  he  writes 
apropos  of  the  publication  of  his  Theology,'^  ''that  the  Scrib- 
ners  put  into  the  initial  announcement  the  names  of  some 
good  men,  including  your  own,  as  a  kind  of  sponsors  or  guard- 
ian angels  to  the  enterprise.  It  looked  a  little  like  roping 
you  all  in,  in  the  presence  of  the  public,  in  support  of  the  ven- 
ture. After  a  little,  no  doubt,  they  will  find  other  matter  to 
insert  and  will  set  you  free." 

This  independence  had  its  roots  in  a  religious  experience 
of  singular  freshness  and  originality.  He  was  a  man  who 
walked  with  God  consciously  and  easily  as  a  man  might  walk 
with  a  familiar  friend.  He  had  the  prophet's  gift  of  vision 
married  to  the  mystic's  sense  of  certainty.  If  he  had  wished 
to  define  God  in  a  sentence,  he  would  have  said:  "God  is 
light,  and  in  him  is  no  darkness  at  all." 

This  immediate  consciousness  of  God,  carrjdng  with  it  its 
own  certitude,  was  the  alpha  and  omega  of  his  Theology.  It 
explains  some  features  of  it  which  perplexed  his  students  and 
were  the  frequent  subject  of  criticism  by  his  friends.  It  ex- 
plained, for  instance,  his  indifference  to  the  critical  apparatus 
which  fills  so  much  space  in  most  current  text-books.  This 
indifference  was  not  due  to  failure  to  recognize  the  impor- 
tance of  wide  reading  and  accurate  scholarship:  still  less  to 
the  absence  of  these  qualifications  on  his  own  part,  but 
rather  to  a  deliberate  conviction  that  his  own  gift  lay  in 
another  direction.  He  conceived  it  as  his  message  to  his 
generation  to  cultivate  in  them  by  every  means  in  his  power 
the  gift  of  sight.  "If  I  can  make  them  see  what  I  see,"  he 
used  to  say,  "they  will  have  the  main  thing;  the  rest  they 
can  work  out  for  themselves."  External  authority  he  rated 
so  lightly  that  in  his  book  on  the  Ideal  of  Jesus  he  would  not 
even  print  chapter  and  verse  of  the  passages  which  he  quoted 
in  the  text. 

1  May  13,  1898. 


2o6  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

This  explains  his  attitude  toward  history.  While  he 
was  interested  in  the  past  and  followed  with  attention  the 
researches  of  the  critics,  he  made  Httle  use  of  their  results  in 
his  teaching.  He  did  not  feel  it  incumbent  upon  him  to 
mediate  in  detail  between  the  present  and  the  past.  God 
is  here  to-day,  at  work  in  the  world  and  in  our  lives.  Why 
take  a  roundabout  way  into  his  presence,  when  we  have  only 
to  open  the  door  and  enter  in? 

This  explains,  too,  his  attitude  to  the  Bible.  The  Bible 
was  to  him  the  book  of  books  because  it  speaks  to  us  of  God 
to-day,  but  as  a  record  of  God's  dealings  in  the  past,  it  was 
a  book  Kke  other  books,  to  be  tested  by  the  same  methods 
and  judged  by  the  same  canons.  Early  in  his  teaching  he 
proposed  this  theme  for  his  students:^  "What  would  be  the 
consequences  if  the  books  of  the  Bible  regarded  as  writings 
should  be  proved  to  possess  only  such  qualities  as  belong  to 
other  books  generally?"  Everywhere  he  sought  simphcity, 
immediacy,  the  direct  contact  between  the  soul  and  God.  Of 
the  means  of  grace  he  wrote i^  "The  word  is  simply  vital 
truth  which  the  Spirit  helps  to  exert  its  proper  influence  upon 
the  human  powers.  The  sacraments  are  of  another  kind." 
Of  a  creed  submitted  to  him  for  criticism,  he  wrote i^  "I  hardly 
think  any  denomination  would  take  it  just  as  it  stands  as  a 
complete  s3mibol,  for  they  all  want  to  add  something  to  the 
gospel  of  the  good  Lord,  which  seems  not  quite  complete 
after  all.  But  the  additions  detract  rather  than  improve  the 
original  blessing,  and  we  are  better  off  without  them  in  our 
creeds." 

He  was  a  bom  teacher,  and  he  loved  his  work  to  the  end. 
Passage  after  passage  in  the  correspondence  deals  with  his 
experiences  in  the  classroom.  In  1898  he  writes:^  "I  have 
begun  my  work  this  year  with  unspeakable  gladness.  I  have 
never  had  so  joyful  a  sense  of  liberty  in  uttering  what  I  think. 

'  September,  21,  1897.  '  December  30,  1901. 

'  December  30,  1901.  *  October  9,  1898. 


AN   AMERICAN  THEOLOGIAN  207 

My  heart  has  gone  out  to  you  and  to  all  the  men  who  are  en- 
gaged in  the  teaching  of  theology  with  a  warm  sense  of  fel- 
lowship and  affection,  and  I  have  most  sincerely  invoked 
upon  the  whole  group  the  abundant  blessing  of  God  in  the 
year's  work."  And  again  a  year  later: ^  "I  have  done  one 
week's  teaching  and  find  the  old  fulness  and  flavor  unchanged. 
The  freedom  is  all  there,  and  the  luxury  of  utterance  and 
influence  is  undiminished.  .  .  .  May  you  find  the  same 
good  experience  when  you  get  your  classes  before  you.  How 
good  it  is  to  have  the  great  things  grow  in  our  minds  even 
while  we  are  uttering  them,  so  that  one  would  be  glad  to 
begin  again  at  once  and  say  it  over  on  a  larger  scale." 

Like  most  teachers,  he  had  his  discouraging  experiences, 
but  he  was  helped  over  them  partly  by  his  sense  of  humor, 
partly  by  the  pastoral  spirit  which  saw  in  the  dullest  pupil  a 
character  to  be  trained  and  an  immortal  spirit  to  be  enfran- 
chised. After  one  particularly  trying  experience  in  which  a 
student  had  shown  evidence  of  a  precocity  in  misunder- 
standing which  amounted  almost  to  virtuosity,  he  writes  r^ 
"  Sometimes  I  think  theology  should  be  written  in  words  of 
one  syllable.  If  you  can  hit  the  dullest  man,  I  would  like 
you  to  shoot  up  this  way." 

Insincerity  was  his  bete  noir.  To  command  his  respect 
there  must  be  an  idea  for  every  word.  In  its  simplicity,  its 
clarity,  its  sincerity  his  style  was  the  reflection  of  the  man. 
As  you  read  him  you  had  the  impression  of  a  transparent 
truthfulness  and  withal  of  a  catholicity  possible  only  to  one 
who  had  entered  sympathetically  into  Kfe  in  all  its  phases. 
It  was  the  style  of  a  seer  who  had  learned  to  be  a  comrade. 
To  the  man  in  quest  of  reality,  it  was  like  a  draft  of  cold 
water  on  a  sultry  day.  It  is  more  than  twenty  years  since  I 
first  received  the  manuscript  of  the  Theology,  but  the  im- 
pression is  as  vivid  as  if  it  were  yesterday. 

This  mastery  of  expression  did  not  come  of  itself.    A  long 

»  September  24,  1899.  '  April  22,  1897. 


2o8  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

discipline  lay  back  of  it.  To  some  of  its  elements  I  have 
already  had  occasion  to  refer.  Fundamental  was  the  dis- 
cipline of  thought  which  was  the  result  of  the  unceasing 
quest  of  reahty.  Scarcely  less  important  in  its  contribution 
to  his  style  was  the  necessity  of  impartation.  A  teacher  of 
the  highest  themes  to  men  of  imperfect  training  and  limited 
experience,  he  was  obliged  constantly  to  simpHfy.  He  worked, 
as  he  expressed  it  himself,  at  least  he  tried  to  work,  in  words 
of  one  syllable.  But  his  thought  found  its  way  the  more 
surely  to  the  hearts  for  which  it  was  designed. 

Back  of  all  lay  the  discipline  of  character  that  came  from 
the  acceptance  of  a  task  not  chosen,  and  the  surrender  of 
plans  that  would  have  led  him  into  other  work.  He  did  not 
often  refer  to  the  past,  but  when  he  did,  it  was  with  a  clear 
insight  that  he  had  been  led,  in  ways  he  could  not  have  fore- 
seen, to  the  place  God  had  planned  for  him  from  the  first. 
One  of  his  first  letters  lifts  the  curtain,  ''You  do  not  know," 
he  writes,^  ''how  welcome  is  your  appreciation  of  my  pages. 
I  have  taught  before  in  the  New  Testament  department, 
but  from  that  work  I  was  drawn  back  to  the  pastorate  and 
was  settled  in  Hamilton.  Of  teaching  in  theology  I  had  abso- 
lutely no  thought,  except  that  no  one  would  ever  want  me 
to  do  it,  and  that  I  was  very  glad,  because  never  in  any  cir- 
cumstances would  I  be  willing  to  do  it.  I  knew  that  I  was  a 
heretic,  and  was  thankful  that  other  men  were  to  have  the 
burden  of  framing  theological  thought  for  the  schools.  But 
Doctor  Dodge,  my  predecessor,  died  suddenly  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  second  term  of  the  year,  and  I  found  myself  in  his 
chair  to  carry  his  class  to  the  year's  end,  and  the  result  was 
that  I  remained  there.  I  have  done  what  I  could.  Only  by 
you  among  teachers  has  my  work  been  tested,  or  even  seen, 
and  you  can  well  understand  how  glad  I  am  that  you  see  good 
in  it  and  find  it  useful." - 

But  for  the  most  part  his  face  was  turned  forward.    The 

1  May  I,  1894.  ^Ibid. 


AN  AMERICAN  THEOLOGIAN  209 

word  already  quoted  was  characteristic.  "It  is  not  the  end, 
but  the  beginning."  Hope  was  his  native  breath,  immortal- 
ity his  assured  and  joyful  conviction.  That  God  would  have 
all  souls  at  last  he  dared  to  believe.  One  of  the  first  sentences 
he  wrote  expresses  a  conviction  which  he  cherished  with  in- 
creasing confidence  as  the  years  went  on.  "The  tendency 
of  all  our  theologizing  is  toward  larger  hopes.  To  ground  sal- 
vation in  the  character  of  God  is  to  see  that  he  is  eternally  a 
saviour.  There  is  no  escape  from  it,  if  one  desired  escape 
from  so  glorious  a  reality." 

The  final  impression  is  of  a  certain  massiveness,  a  strong 
man  with  the  serenity  of  strength;  a  man  four-square  in  his 
thinking  as  in  his  living;  seeing  things  in  the  large.  His  the- 
ology could  be  summed  up  in  a  few  simple  principles,  but 
they  had  reach  and  breadth  ample  enough  to  span  the  uni- 
verse of  God.  "I  agree  with  you,"  he  writes,^  "that  the 
Christian  conception  of  God  has  its  only  adequate  support 
in  the  Christian  experience.  I  love  to  think,  however,  that 
that  experience  presupposes,  utilizes,  combines,  and  glorifies 
all  the  other  evidences  of  the  existence  of  God,  so  that  nature 
and  fife  in  all  their  forms  find  their  places  in  the  system  of 
proof  that  is  distinctively  Christian,  and  support  for  a  Chris- 
tian a  higher  conclusion  than  by  themselves  they  would  ever 
attain  to.  So,  for  that  matter,  does  philosophy.  All  good 
thoughts  of  what  God  is,  and  all  that  helps  to  prove  his  exis- 
tence come  to  maturity  and  glory  in  the  Christian  argument." 

Among  my  letters  I  find  this  greeting  ^  which  came  to 
me  on  the  first  day  of  the  new  century:  "Here  I  greet  you, 
theologian  to  theologian,  for  the  birthday  of  the  twentieth 
century.  May  your  head  be  clear  and  your  heart  be  strong 
and  your  grasp  be  vigorous  all  the  days  of  the  new  century 
that  you  live  among  the  mortals,  and  may  your  best  force 
move  forth  graciously  to  help  the  life  that  is  to  be.  It  is  a 
great  time,  a  hard  time,  and  a  noble  time  to  be  at  work,  and 

*  May  I,  1894.  *  December  30,  1900. 


2IO  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

I  hope  you  are  to  have  a  long  and  useful  time  of  service  to 
the  holy  faith.  A  good  New  Year  to  you,  and  good  years 
many." 

A  different  note  is  struck  by  the  following,  the  last  letter 
I  ever  received  from  him,^  but  one  no  less  characteristic.  It 
is  from  the  Southern  home  in  De  Land,  Florida,  where  Mrs. 
Clarke  and  he  had  gone  to  escape  the  rigors  of  a  Northern 
winter:  "The  active  world  seems  a  long  way  off,  as  I  sit 
here  and  hear  the  wind  in  the  pines,  but  I  know  it  is  going 
right  on — the  spirit  moving  on  the  face  of  the  waters,  and 
men  responding.    You  are  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  I  am  glad." 

"You  are  in  the  midst  of  it,  and  I  am  glad."  It  is  the 
epitome  of  a  life  that  had  mastered  the  secret  of  universal 
sympathy,  because  the  man  who  lived  it  dared  to  take  with- 
out qualification  or  reserve  the  most  audacious  words  that 
ever  fell  from  the  lips  of  man:  "God  is  love." 

» January  19,  1908. 


DOCTOR  CLARKE  IN  THE  CLASSROOM 

By  Reverend  Doctor  F.  A.  Starratt,  Professor  of  Theology 
IN  Colgate  University 

The  unique  influence  of  Doctor  Clarke  in  the  classroom 
can  only  be  appreciated  as  one  realizes  clearly  the  peculiar 
demands  of  the  situation  which  confronted  him  there.  We 
need  to  remind  ourselves  that  the  years  of  his  activity  as  a 
teacher  were  years  of  great  disturbance  in  the  field  of  the- 
ology. A  new  world-view  was  breaking  upon  the  minds  of 
men,  and  its  acceptance  demanded  a  reconstruction  in  all 
departments  of  human  learning.  No  field  of  thought  was 
more  directly  affected  by  this  new  world-view  than  that  of 
theology. 

Historical  criticism  had  laid  its  hand  upon  the  Bible  and 
raised  the  whole  question  of  authority  in  religion.  The  evolu- 
tionary theory  offered  a  new  account  of  the  origin  of  man,  as 
well  as  a  reconstruction  of  the  doctrine  of  sin  as  found  in  his- 
torical theology.  Because  the  new  view  demanded  such  a  radi- 
cal reconstruction  of  theological  views  it  was  met  with  em- 
phatic and  violent  opposition.  To  many  it  seemed  as  though 
the  new  view  had  arisen  outside  of  the  religious  field,  and  to 
be  making  its  way  as  a  foreign  element  into  the  realm  of 
things  made  sacred  by  memories  of  the  past  and  by  their  inti- 
mate relations  with  the  deepest  things  in  human  life;  and 
so  it  was  met  as  an  intruder,  to  yield  to  which  would  be  dis- 
loyalty to  truth  verified  in  experience.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  were  those  who  felt  that  the  new  world-view  was  so 
strongly  supported  by  evidence,  furnished  from  many  fields 
of  research,  that  it  must  be  reckoned  with.  They  also  felt 
that  truth  was  one,  and  that  some  way  could  be  found  to 
harmonize  the  truth  of  religion  with  that  which  was  found 


212  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

to  be  true  in  other  parts  of  God's  universe;    and  they  set 
themselves  to  this  task. 

Now  the  classroom  of  theology  is  a  little  world  in  itself. 
In  it  are  found  representatives  of  the  various  types  of  thought 
in  the  world  outside.  The  various  influences  that  operate 
in  the  outside  world  to  confuse  the  issue  and  to  prejudice 
the  judgment  are  at  work  here  with  even  more  intensity 
just  because  the  attention  is  concentrated  upon  these  prob- 
lems. Doctor  Clarke,  as  he  faced  this  situation,  had  two 
definite  things  to  do.  He  must  construct  his  theology  in 
such  a  way  as  to  harmonize  religious  truth  with  the  new 
world-view  which  he  had  frankly  accepted.  His  contribu- 
tion to  the  task  of  the  reconstruction  of  theology  has  been 
given  to  the  world  and  has  been  recognized  as  of  distinct 
value.  He  had  also  to  deal  with  the  men  before  him  in  such 
a  way  as  to  be  helpful  to  all,  whatever  their  attitude  toward 
their  problems  might  be.  There  were  those  whose  minds 
were  sensitive  to  the  "new-thought  movements"  of  the  world, 
but  who  were  filled  with  doubt  and  perplexity  as  they  tried 
to  relate  these  to  their  religious  conceptions.  There  were 
also  those  to  whom  the  new  point  of  view  made  little  or  no 
appeal,  and  whose  theology  in  its  general  outlines  was  fixed. 
To  both  types  of  men  the  questions  discussed  were  not  aca- 
demic ones,  but  were  questions  touching  matters  of  vital  per- 
sonal concern.  To  them  the  cause  to  which  they  had  dedi- 
cated their  lives  was  intimately  and  fundamentally  involved 
with  the  settlement  of  these  problems.  On  the  one  side  were 
men  who  could  not  pursue  their  calling  as  Christian  minis- 
ters unless  a  way  could  be  found  to  harmonize  what  seemed 
to  be  two  mutually  contradictory  ways  of  conceiving  the 
world.  To  others  the  future  of  Christianity  depended  upon 
the  success  of  the  effort  to  keep  these  two  world- views  apart, 
to  defend  Christianity  from  contact  with  a  conception  which 
seemed  to  them  to  be  wholly  foreign  to  its  spirit  and  destruc- 
tive  of  its   most   cherished   beliefs.      Furthermore,    Doctor 


DOCTOR   CLARKE   IN  THE   CLASSROOM     213 

Clarke's  general  position  was  well  known.  Many  among 
those  who  knew  him  and  loved  him  believed  that  he  was  ad- 
vocating views  which,  if  they  prevailed,  would  transform 
Christianity  in  such  a  way  that  it  would  lose  its  distinctive 
features  and  its  vital  saving  power.  Many  a  young  man,  be- 
fore he  entered  the  classroom,  had  been  solemnly  warned 
by  his  pastor  or  by  some  godly  and  Christian  man,  against 
what  were  honestly  conceived  to  be  the  pernicious  views  of 
the  teacher  whom  he  would  meet  there. 

This  was  the  situation  which  Doctor  Clarke  met  day 
after  day  in  his  work — this  world  in  miniature  that  reflected 
in  detail  passing  religious  thoughts  of  the  great  world  out- 
side, the  whole  pervaded  with  an  earnestness  born  of  close 
personal  interest.  The  future  careers  of  many  young  men 
were  to  be  decided  in  that  classroom.  Would  the  teacher 
be  able  to  lead  some  of  them  through  to  the  place  where  the 
conflicting  views  of  science  and  religion  could  be  reconciled, 
and  at  the  same  time  do  something  for  the  faith  and  the  en- 
lightenment of  those  to  whom  such  a  solution  was  impossi- 
ble? How  could  he  be  helpful  at  the  same  time  to  two  types 
of  men  who  were  destined  from  the  first  to  go  out  from  the 
classroom  with  differing  and,  in  large  measure,  opposing  con- 
ceptions of  God,  man,  and  the  world? 

Li  that  Doctor  Clarke  was  able  to  do  this  difficult  and 
delicate  thing,  and  to  do  it  so  well,  consisted  his  pecuHar  great- 
ness as  a  teacher  and  as  a  Christian  man.  If  one  asks  how 
he  did  it,  how  he  was  able  to  be  so  helpful  to  students  in  this 
period  of  transition,  the  answer  is  to  be  found  in  the  man  as 
man,  not  merely  the  teacher.  It  was  his  sincerity,  open- 
mindedness,  frankness,  sweetness.  Christlike  personahty.  He 
was  true  to  himself  in  the  classroom  as  elsewhere.  In  his 
transparent  life  men  with  all  kinds  of  views  could  see  the 
spirit  of  Christianity  reflected.  There  was  a  common  bond 
of  sympathy  between  himself  and  men  of  the  most  differing 
theological  views.     Each  one  could  see  in  his  teacher  that 


214  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

after  which  his  own  soul  longed — a  sure  grasp  of  unseen 
things.  The  man  beset  by  doubt  suggested  by  the  findings 
of  science  and  philosophy  could  see  in  one  who  frankly  ac- 
cepted these  findings  the  same  certitude  concerning  spiritu- 
alities that  has  been  the  sure  possession  of  great  Christian 
souls  of  all  times.  Thus  he  was  assured  that  for  him,  also,  it 
was  possible  to  be  true  to  what  he  was  compelled  to  believe 
as  to  the  world  as  known  by  science,  and  at  the  same  time 
retain  his  faith  in  God  and  in  the  verities  of  the  Christian 
religion.  The  man  whose  interest  lay  in  another  direction, 
who  was  anxious  above  all  else  to  keep  Christian  doctrine 
uncontaminated  by  what  was  conceived  foreign  to  it,  also 
saw  in  the  teacher  before  him  a  high  type  of  the  Christian 
man  whose  soul  was  nourished  by  communion  with  God  and 
whose  spirit  was  held  in  loyal  subjection  to  the  spirit  of  Christ. 
And  thus  there  was  felt  to  be  a  distinction  between  the  life 
of  Christianity  and  the  forms  in  which  that  Christianity 
might  be  doctrinally  conceived  at  any  particular  time  or 
under  the  influence  of  any  particular  world-view.  In  this 
manner  a  way  was  opened  for  the  teacher  to  help  both  types 
of  men  as  he  pointed  out  to  them  the  significance  of  the 
great  life  experiences  of  the  Christian. 

That  which  Doctor  Clarke  was  able  to  accomplish  in  the 
classroom  as  a  teacher  among  his  students  illustrates  the 
place  which  he  occupies  in  the  larger  world  of  Protestant 
Christianity,  in  which  he  was  so  well  known.  It  is  my  own 
con\action  that  when  more  years  shall  have  passed  and  we 
look  back  over  this  bit  of  history  which  is  now  in  the  making, 
he  will  appear  as  one  of  the  men  who,  perhaps  in  a  larger 
degree  than  any  other,  have  been  able  to  help  men  of  the  most 
divergent  views  theologically  to  maintain  their  hold  on  re- 
ligion and  their  faith  in  each  other  through  this  period  of 
transition. 

At  the  close  of  his  Outline  of  Christian  Theology,  a  book 
which  grew  up  in  the  classroom,  there  is  added  a  personal 


DOCTOR   CLARKE   IN  THE   CLASSROOM      215 

word  to  the  student,  which  so  fully  expresses  the  spirit  and 
method  of  the  teacher  that  I  quote  it  in  full, 

"Of  the  many  things  that  ought  to  be  said  about  theology 
but  are  not  said  in  this  book,  some,  I  trust,  may  be  spoken 
in  the  discussions  of  our  pleasant  classroom  on  the  dear  old 
hill.  There,  with  our  windows  open  to  the  morning  light, 
teacher  and  pupils  all  students  together,  we  talk  without 
reserve  of  all  things  in  earth  and  heaven  that  bear  upon  our 
high  theme.  It  is  always  the  light  of  the  present  day  that 
shines  in  through  our  windows;  past  suns  have  set,  and  the 
suns  of  future  days  have  yet  to  rise.  But  all  days  are  the 
Lord's,  and  we  are  as  sure  that  God  is  with  us  in  our  work 
as  that  he  was  with  our  fathers,  or  that  he  will  enlighten 
those  who  shall  come  after  us.  Indeed,  his  spirit  has  often 
refreshed  our  hearts  there  while  we  have  talked  together  of 
him  and  gazed  upon  his  glory  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
our  quiet  room  has  been  to  us  the  house  of  God.  We  do  not 
find  all  the  questions  that  were  present  to  our  father's  press- 
ing upon  us,  their  children,  nor  do  we  feel  ourselves  required 
to  settle  all  the  questions  that  we  see  rising,  to  engage  the 
thoughts  of  future  students.  We  are  willing  that  our  suc- 
cessors shall  leave  our  perplexities  and  our  solutions  of  them 
and  answer  their  own  questions  in  the  clearer  light  of  coming 
time.  Sufficient  unto  the  day  are  its  own  magnitudes  and 
mysteries.  It  may  well  suffice  us  if  we  can  justify  to  mind 
and  heart  the  vital  faith,  the  ardent  love,  and  the  sustaining 
hope  that  our  generation  needs;  and  this,  through  the  grace 
of  him  who  is  the  same  yesterday  and  to-day  and  forever,  we 
beHeve  it  is  given  us  to  do.  If  all  men  knew  the  God  whose 
light  shines  through  our  windows,  and  knew  him  not  only 
in  study,  but  in  life  and  love,  the  murmurs  of  the  world  would 
surely  sink  into  silence,  and  the  troubled  heart  of  man  find 
peace.  To  know  and  love  such  a  being  as  the  God  and  Father 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  to  find  our  questions  answered 
and  our  strength  renewed.  His  eager  and  unsatisfied  world 
needs  a  thousand  applications  of  the  good  tidings  of  him  to 
its  manifold  Hfe  and  activity,  and  it  needs  a  faith  clear 
and  simple,  a  faith  that  heals  doubt,  and  awakens  love,  and 
breathes  wisdom,  and  imparts  spiritual  power.  The  work  of 
our  classroom  will  have  accomplished  its  purpose  if  young 


2i6  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

men  go  out  from  it  with  the  true  secret  of  the  Lord  in  their 
hearts,  with  a  faith  that  cannot  be  perplexed,  a  love  that 
burns  in  fellowship  with  him  who  gave  himself  for  men,  and  a 
hope  unquenchable.  This  is  much  to  ask  and  seek;  but  for 
what  lower  end  than  this  has  our  Lord  given  us  our  seminary, 
our  time,  and  our  Bibles?  May  he  always  be  the  teacher 
whose  presence  glorifies  the  room !" 


DOCTOR  CLARKE  IN  THE  CLASSROOM 

By  Professor  John  Benjamin  Anderson 

If  indirect  contact  with  Doctor  Clarke  through  reading 
his  writings  had  been  prized  by  thousands  as  a  help  to  Chris- 
tian thinking  and  an  inspiration  to  holy  living,  surely  thrice 
fortunate  were  we  who  came  in  daily  personal  contact  with 
the  great  teacher  in  his  classroom.  To  sit  at  his  feet  and  re- 
ceive instruction  in  some  of  the  profoundest  themes  of  hu- 
man thought  was  a  privilege  and  an  opportunity  rare  indeed. 
What  Doctor  Clarke  was  in  the  classroom  is  largely  incom- 
municable to  others.  We  saw  the  shining  of  a  great  light, 
and  no  analysis  or  description  in  cold  type  can  do  more  than 
hint  at  the  reality. 

Doctor  Clarke's  physical  presence,  at  once  pleasing  and 
impressive,  counted  for  much  toward  his  success  as  a  teacher. 
It  was  a  joy  just  to  behold  the  man.  As  long  as  life  shall 
last  will  abide  the  memory  of  the  familiar  and  beloved  figure 
seated  behind  the  desk.  Doctor  Clarke  was  of  rather  large 
frame.  His  noble  head  with  its  length  and  breadth  and  with 
its  height  of  brow  seemed  the  fitting  seat  and  symbol  of  a 
great  mind.  His  fine  features  and  his  sensitive  hands  were 
in  keeping  with  the  aesthetic  quality  of  the  man  and  were 
expressive  of  the  refinement  and  spirituality  of  his  nature. 
And  who  could  ever  forget  the  light  radiant  in  those  wonder- 
ful eyes !  It  was  at  times  as  if  his  glorious  soul  were  shining 
out  upon  you.  He  always  sat  to  teach.  He  never  raised  his 
pleasant  voice  to  a  shout  or  to  the  high  pitch  of  heated  em- 
phasis, although  he  could  on  occasion  speak  emphatically 
and  effectively  in  strong,  firm  tones.  The  young  men  felt 
that  he  was  their  mentor,  friend,  and  father;    they  loved  to 

217 


2i8  WILLL\M  NEWTON  CLARKE 

be  near  him,  and  the  hours  spent  in  his  presence  were  golden 
hours,  not  alone  of  profit,  but  equally  of  happiness. 

Doctor  Clarke  was  a  prophetic  teacher.  He  spoke  "as  an 
oracle  of  God."  At  the  close  of  a  class  hour  I  asked  him  how 
he  knew  that  a  certain  momentous  statement  he  had  just 
made  was  true.  He  looked  me  straight  in  the  eye,  as  if  to  see 
whether  I  was  able  to  bear  his  answer  or  not,  and  said:  "Be- 
cause I  know  God."  Consonant  with  this  was  his  epigram: 
"The  only  safe  way  to  walk  without  crutches  is  to  be  able 
to  walk;  the  only  safe  way  to  get  along  without  external 
authority  is  to  live  with  God."  This  was  the  atmosphere 
which  came  with  him  into  the  classroom,  and  to  most  of  us 
it  was  a  highly  rarefied  atmosphere.  Students  who  had  been 
brought  up  to  live  and  move  only  within  the  boundaries  of 
Biblical  and  ecclesiastical  authority  in  religious  belief  could 
not  accompany  the  teacher  in  his  free  ranging  over  the  realm 
of  religious  thought,  but  could  only  follow  him  with  their 
eyes,  now  fascinated  at  his  boldness,  now  shocked  at  his  dis- 
regard of  their  cherished  limitations,  now  wondering  if,  after 
aU,  he  was  not  enjoying  the  legitimate  freedom  of  the  sons 
of  God. 

Under  such  leadership  the  student  learned  to  think  for 
himself,  to  examine  his  traditional  stock  of  ideas,  and  to 
criticise  freely  the  views  of  his  teacher  also.  "Don't  take 
any  idea  until  the  idea  takes  you,"  he  said  to  us  in  his  char- 
acteristically epigrammatic  way.  Again,  "No  doctrine  has 
a  good  chance  so  long  as  people  are  afraid  of  it,"  and,  "If 
you  can  reject  any  idea  of  mine,  I  want  you  to  reject  it."  I 
never  knew  a  man  who  seemed  to  be  more  open-minded.  He 
desired  to  do  justice  to  ideas  from  every  source,  even  the 
most  alien  to  himself.  He  tried  to  see  things  through  the  eyes 
of  other  people  as  well  as  through  his  own.  This  general 
habit  and  temper  of  mind  made  him  patient  and  sympa- 
thetic with  us  all.  He  seemed  to  be  able  to  divine  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  student  and  often  to  understand  better  than 


DOCTOR  CLARKE  IN  THE  CLASSROOM     219 

the  man  himself  what  the  difficulty  was,  and  would  restate  the 
student's  bungling  question  so  clearly  that  the  sense  of  relief 
and  the  expectancy  of  hope  lit  up  the  face  of  the  learner. 

Doctor  Clarke  was  what  might  be  called  an  overflowing 
teacher.  His  text  at  the  writer's  ordination  was,  "Out  of 
the  abundance  of  the  heart  the  mouth  speaketh,"  and  his 
theme,  "Full  soul,  full  utterance."  The  preacher  himself  was 
a  fine  exemplification  of  his  text  and  theme.  He  nourished 
his  mind  and  kept  it  strong  and  supple  by  the  reading  of 
numberless  books  of  the  highest  quality  and  of  the  greatest 
variety.  In  a  remarkable  measure  he  kept  up  with  the  best 
periodical  literature.  He  was  profoundly  interested  in  con- 
temporaneous thought  and  life  on  many  sides.  His  mind 
was  brimming  over  with  the  results  of  all  his  thoughtful  and 
discriminating  reading  and  also  of  his  contact  with  an  unusu- 
ally wide  circle  of  acquaintance,  to  say  notliing  of  the  intel- 
lectual resources  coming  from  many  years  of  experience  in 
the  pastorate,  and  the  full  mind  and  heart  overflowed  day 
by  day  into  the  lives  of  his  students. 

Marvellously  rich  as  he  was  in  his  resources,  our  teacher 
nevertheless  used  self-control  in  their  employment.  He  did 
not  crowd  his  treatment  with  endless  details.  He  observed 
perspective  and  proportion  in  the  selection  of  materials  for 
classroom  use.  It  was  the  habit  of  his  mind  to  put  first 
things  first,  to  dwell  upon  great  principles  and  their  chief 
applications.  "Anything,"  he  said,  "that  is  not  necessarily 
and  eternally  true  is  only  a  side  issue.  The  eternal  verities 
are  the  heart  of  Christianity.  If  not,  Christianity  will  not 
do  for  the  fortieth  century,"  Another  day  he  said  to  us, 
"Your  idea  of  God  will  sweep  everything  before  it,"  a  say- 
ing of  cardinal  significance  for  the  understanding  of  the  work 
of  Doctor  Clarke  as  a  teacher  and  as  a  theologian.  The  im- 
pression of  the  student  as  he  recalls  the  teaching  process  of 
Doctor  Clarke  is  that  of  a  deep,  broad,  shining  river  moving 
onward  through  the  mighty  continent  of  theology. 


2  20  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

Doctor  Clarke  was  pre-eminently  a  religious  man.  There 
was  an  atmosphere  of  spirituality  about  him.  One  felt  that 
he  was  at  home  among  the  eternal  realities.  To  him  God  was 
a  real  presence,  and  in  him  he  lived  and  moved  and  had  his 
being.  Fortunate  were  the  men  who  lived  in  the  effulgence 
of  his  radiant  life.  Many  have  been  their  testimonies  to  a 
new  vision  of  God  and  a  closer  walk,  with  him.  The  religious 
influence  of  Doctor  Clarke  in  the  classroom  streamed  forth 
from  his  personality  in  an  unde&nable  way.  It  came  also 
through  what  he  said,  but  above  all  the  prayers  with  which 
the  class  hours  were  begun  brought  us  very  close  to  God.  It 
sometimes  seemed  as  if  God  were  breathing  his  holy  spirit 
upon  us.  What  a  beginning  each  day  for  the  study  of  theol- 
ogy! We  commenced  our  study  about  God  each  day  by 
being  led  into  his  presence,  by  being  made  sure  of  him  anew, 
and  by  a  real  outgoing  of  our  souls  to  him. 

Let  me  give  one  more  illustration  of  this  religious  influ- 
ence. In  all  our  classrooms  the  freest  and  frankest  discus- 
sions are  not  only  permitted  to  the  students  but  are  encour- 
aged, and  this  was  true  nowhere  more  than  with  Doctor 
Clarke.  The  result  was  that  the  sessions  in  his  room  were 
often  very  animated  and  sometimes  (though  rarely)  almost 
stormy.  One  day  stands  out  with  sharp  distinctness  in  my 
memory.  Some  of  the  students  were  objecting  strongly  and 
excitedly  to  certain  views  of  their  teacher.  The  situation 
became  tense  and  even  painful,  and  he  manifestly  felt  the 
strain.  The  bell  closing  the  hour  rang  out,  and  we  expected 
to  leave  the  room  immediately.  Doctor  Clarke,  however, 
beckoned  us  to  remain,  and  his  great  heart  poured  itself  out 
in  an  act  of  communion  with  God,  and  we  were  borne  on  the 
tide  of  his  prayer  far  out  beyond  our  controversial  atmos- 
phere into  the  presence  and  the  greatness  of  the  Infinite.  We 
quietly  left  the  room,  hushed  and  reverent,  and  with  some 
eyes  wet  with  tears.  Such  was  the  religious  spirit  and  power 
of  our  great  teacher  in  his  classroom.    How  true  to  his  own 


DOCTOR  CLARKE  IN  THE  CLASSROOM     221 

experience  were  the  words  he  uttered  one  day  in  our  class: 
"The  spiritual  reality  that  constitutes  the  heart  of  Chris- 
tianity is  a  divine,  holy  Ufe  in  the  soul  of  man,  making  him  a 
new  creature  in  holy  love  and  godliness." 

Alert,  witty  yet  gentle  in  repartee,  gifted  with  a  keen 
sense  of  humor,  smiling  and  laughing  with  us  at  his  not  in- 
frequent salUes  of  purest  fun,  the  sparkling  scintillations  of  a 
diamond  intellect,  having  a  wonderful  power  of  extempo- 
raneous epigram,  ready  with  illustrative  anecdote,  quick  to 
take  the  student's  standpoint  and  to  put  the  latter's  case 
fairly  and  often  more  cogently  than  he  himself  could,  speak- 
ing always  the  pure,  Umpid  English  so  well  known  to  his 
readers,  unconventional  yet  dignified,  genial,  kindly,  pater- 
nal, possessed  of  the  rarest  charm  of  personaUty,  and  in  and 
through  all  revealing  the  man  who  walked  with  God,  is  it 
any  wonder  that  his  students  thought  of  Doctor  Clarke  as 
one  of  God's  supreme  gifts  to  them,  and  that  the  hours  spent 
in  his  classroom  are  among  the  happiest  and  brightest  mem- 
ories which  any  students  could  ever  cherish  of  any  teacher! 


DOCTOR  CLARKE  IN  THE  CLASSROOM 

By  Reverend  Daniel  Hunt  Clare 

"Otjr  pleasant  classroom  on  the  dear  old  hill."  The  at- 
mosphere of  the  room  is  revealed  in  the  exquisitely  beautiful 
conclusion  of  the  Theology.  This  spirit  of  companionship 
gave  to  the  room  its  unfailing  attraction.  We  felt  we  were 
not  there  to  receive  instruction  in  theology,  but  to  talk  with 
a  gracious  and  inspiring  personality,  to  share  with  him  the 
results  of  his  meditation  and  study  and  spiritual  experience 
in  order  that  we  might  be  able  to  shape  our  own  thoughts 
and  convictions  concerning  the  great  realities  which  were  to 
be  the  substance  of  our  preaching. 

With  his  characteristic  habit  of  leisurely  punctuahty,  he 
was  always  in  his  place  at  the  desk  when  we  entered,  greeting 
us  with  his  smiling  eyes,  while  with  one  hand  he  toyed  with 
the  small  clock  which  stood  there.  Exactly  upon  the  sound 
of  the  gong  in  the  hall  a  hush  would  fall  over  the  room  as  he 
read  a  few  words  from  Scripture,  a  choice  bit  of  verse  or  an 
apt  prose  quotation  bearing  on  the  thought  of  the  hour.  He 
then  closed  his  eyes  and  in  a  brief  prayer  lifted  us  into  the 
presence  of  Him  whose  character  and  purposes  we  were  seek- 
ing to  understand.  There  was  always  an  air  of  expectancy 
in  the  room.  We  gathered  like  hungry  men  around  a  well- 
filled  table.  Little  time  was  spent  in  reciting  the  assigned 
lesson.  He  desired  to  see  if  the  student  had  acquired  the  sub- 
stance of  the  thought.  The  text-book  was  then  read  sen- 
tence by  sentence,  and  quiet  comments  were  made  upon  the 
portions  which  needed  special  elucidation.  He  rose  to  his 
greatest  heights  as  a  teacher  when  the  stream  of  questions 
poured  forth.     His  intellectual  and  spiritual  resources  were 


DOCTOR   CLARKE  IN  THE     CLASSROOM      223 

marvellous.  He  had  no  stereotyped  expressions;  his  utter- 
ances were  always  freshly  coined.  He  spoke  with  transpar- 
ent sincerity  and  he  kept  back  nothing.  His  face  glowed  as 
if  inwardly  illumined.  He  did  not  argue.  He  did  not  raise 
his  voice.  He  conversed  with  us.  We  were  not  afraid  to  ask 
him  anything.  We  were  so  sure  of  his  insight  and  sympathy 
we  knew  he  would  understand.  There  was  no  haste,  but 
not  a  moment  was  wasted.  He  kept  us  close  to  the  great 
themes.  "Learn  to  give  principal  stress  on  principal  things," 
he  said.  He  tried  to  get  to  the  heart  of  our  difficulties.  When 
answering  our  questions  his  thoughts  fell  at  times  like  a 
shower  of  pearls.  Crystal-clear  sentences,  equal  to  any  in 
the  printed  page,  fell  from  his  lips  with  the  opulence  of  a  great 
soul.  The  margins  of  our  text-books  are  covered  with  notes, 
making  the  volumes  doubly  precious.  We  never  doubted 
his  sympathy  with  us  in  our  perplexities,  but  we  were  led  to 
feel  that  we  were  passing  through  a  wholesome  experience. 
"I  should  feel  I  had  done  a  good  year's  work,"  he  said,  "if  I 
could  make  every  one  of  you  believe  that  you  can  trust 
your  own  thinking  when  you  seek  to  do  the  will  of  God."  He 
felt  that  the  classroom  was  the  place  for  doubt,  that  the  pul- 
pit might  become  the  place  for  conviction.  "If  I  give  you 
anything  in  my  career,"  he  said,  "I  shall  try  to  give  you 
something  that  cannot  be  taken  away  from  you."  He  wanted 
no  self-delusion.  He  would  not  have  us  make  our  Judgment 
blind.  If  a  man  complained  that  he  did  not  know  what  to 
preach  because  his  former  views  were  failing  him,  the  answer 
was:  "Let  it  drive  you  to  your  verities."  In  our  spiritual  dis- 
tress, when  struggling  to  readjust  our  vision  as  we  passed 
through  the  clouds  toward  the  high  table-lands  to  which  he 
was  leading  us,  a  glance  at  the  teacher's  radiant  face  told  us 
that  light  and  peace  awaited  us  on  the  upward  side. 

He  made  no  attempt  to  formulate  conclusions  for  us. 
He  wanted  us  to  know  the  truth  by  feeling  its  authority  in 
our  own  souls.    He  disliked  unthinking  assent  to  his  state- 


224  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

ments,  and  it  appeared  to  invigorate  him  when  men  pre- 
sented other  views  which  were  reaUties  to  them.  *'I  want 
you  to  reject  anything  of  mine  you  can,"  he  said,  *'but,  of 
course,"  he  added  with  a  smile,  "I  want  to  fix  it  so  that  you 
can't."  He  ahvays  made  us  feel  we  were  fellow  seekers  after 
truth.  He  was  a  marvel  of  patience  when  what  appeared  to 
some  of  us  as  wilful  obtuseness  was  manifested  by  any  mem- 
bers of  the  class  who  resented  any  disturbance  of  their  be- 
liefs. His  serenity  was  never  dimmed;  he  rarely  uttered  a 
rebuke.  We  knew,  of  course,  of  the  storm  of  criticism  through 
which  he  was  passing.  It  was  hard  for  us  to  realize  that  our 
beloved  teacher  with  his  benignant  face,  his  quiet  manner, 
and  with  the  heart  of  a  little  child  could  be  the  cause  of  such 
violent  controversy.  We  never  heard  him  make  a  single  ref- 
erence in  the  classroom  to  the  trial  through  which  he  was 
passing.  Amid  all  the  reconstruction  taking  place  in  the 
thoughts  of  the  men  of  the  class,  the  note  of  faith  was  domi- 
nant. Our  rehgion  was  even  greater  than  we  thought.  The 
message  we  had  to  deliver  was  more  glorious  than  we  had 
believed.  Each  day  we  were  led  to  feel  that  we  were  better 
acquainted  with  God.  "Indeed,  his  spirit  has  often  refreshed 
our  hearts  there  while  we  have  talked  together  of  him  and 
gazed  upon  his  glory  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  our 
quiet  room  has  been  to  us  the  house  of  God."  The  hour  in- 
variably passed  too  quickly,  and  the  bell  always  sounded 
upon  reluctant  ears.  Many  times  we  came  forth  as  from  a 
service  of  worship.  We  felt  that  the  "teacher  whose  presence 
always  glorified  the  room"  was  seen  in  the  eyes  of  him  who 
talked  with  us. 

A  member  of  the  seminary  class  of  '96  was  fatally  stricken 
with  typhoid  fever  just  as  he  was  about  to  assume  his  first 
pastorate.  A  few  days  before  the  end  he  asked  his  sister  for 
paper  and  pencil,  and  amid  great  weakness  he  wrote:  "To 
have  studied  theology  under  Doctor  Clarke  is  to  lose  all  fear 
of  death." 


DOCTOR  CLARKE  IN  THE  CLASSROOM     225 

Not  only  did  it  mean  to  lose  all  fear  of  death,  but  it  meant 
to  go  forth  from  the  pleasant  classroom,  as  our  great  teacher 
has  expressed  his  hope  and  aim,  "with  the  true  secret  of  the 
Lord  in  their  hearts,  with  a  faith  that  cannot  be  perplexed, 
a  love  that  burns  in  fellowship  with  Him  who  gave  Himself 
for  men,  and  a  hope  unquenchable." 


DOCTOR  CLARKE  IN  THE  CLASSROOM 

By  Reverend  Troward  H.  Marshall 

Perhaps  nothing  went  further  to  win  the  student's  rev- 
erence for  Doctor  Clarke  than  the  prayers  which  we  heard 
from  day  to  day  in  the  classroom,  and,  occasionally,  in  the 
chapel.  To  me  they  were  the  highest  source  of  my  spiritual 
joy  during  the  days  of  seminary  life.  When  the  classroom 
door  was  closed,  Doctor  Clarke  would  read  some  few  words  of 
spiritual  import  from  among  the  gems  of  truth  he  had  learned 
to  make  his  own.  One  that  I  have  before  me  now  is  on  the 
slip  of  paper  which  Doctor  Clarke  gave  me  after  class  one 
morning.  It  is  from  Lucy  Larcom,  and  reads:  "I  awoke 
with  a  strange  joy  as  of  some  new  revelation,  that  seemed 
sounding  through  my  soul,  with  the  words,  'Lift  up  your 
heads,  O  ye  gates,  and  be  ye  lift  up,  ye  everlasting  doors,  and 
the  King  of  Glory  shall  come  in ! '  Is  it  a  new  entering  in  of 
life  and  love  at  all  the  doors  of  my  nature?  Doors  that  I 
have  left  closed  and  overgrown,  perhaps?  Come  in,  O  Life, 
O  Truth,  O  Love,  by  whatever  gate  thou  wilt,  in  whatever 
form  thou  wilt.  Only  make  me  ready  to  receive  thee,  and 
to  go  with  thee  through  the  gates  into  the  freedom  of  thy 
universe." 

Having  read  these  words  (they  might  be  from  Tennyson 
or  Augustine  or  Isaiah),  he  would  move  over,  with  hardly  a 
change  of  tone,  into  the  realm  of  prayer.  Many  of  us  tried 
to  write  the  prayers  as  they  were  spoken.  I  never  knew  of 
any  one  succeeding  in  doing  so.  They  made  writing  impos- 
sible, so  much  did  they  lift  the  spirit  out  of  time  into  the 
timeless.  These  prayers  were  the  expression  of  the  passion 
for  "all  good"  to  which  Emerson  refers  as  the  criterion  for 

226 


DOCTOR   CLARKE  IN  THE  CLASSROOM     227 

true  prayer.  The  specific,  the  accidental,  the  local — these 
were  left  behind.  We  heard  such  words  as  these:  "O  Spirit 
of  Truth,"  .  .  .  but  the  best  efforts  of  memory  will  not 
bring  them  back.  They  were  not  in  the  so-called  "grand 
style,"  but  were  the  hushed  breathings  of  a  passionate  and 
intimate  converse  with  God.  They  shamed  us,  they  in- 
spired us,  they  urged  us  on.  Of  all  the  memories  of  this  holy 
man  of  God,  these  are  inestimably  the  most  precious. 


AS  THEOLOGIAN 
By  Professor  George  Cross,  D.D. 

The  mention  of  the  name  of  William  Newton  Clarke 
arouses  in  the  mind  of  one  who  has  known  him  for  many 
years  not  so  much  at  first  the  idea  of  the  theologian  as  the 
image  of  the  man.  When  we  do  think  of  him  as  theologian 
it  is,  nevertheless,  the  man  in  the  theologian — the  great,  keen- 
witted, broad-minded,  warm-hearted,  wholesome  man — that 
permeates  his  theology  for  us  with  its  most  distinctive  char- 
acteristics. When  his  works  are  read  this  impression  con- 
tinues uppermost.  The  man  never  disappears  in  the  theory. 
For  theology  to  him  was  less  a  vocation  than  a  mode  of  self- 
expression.  The  inimitable  charm  which  his  books  have  for 
all  readers,  whether  experts  or  laymen,  is  owing  to  some- 
thing more  than  the  smooth  and  well-rounded  style  or  even 
the  mellowTiess  of  the  thought,  for  these  are  simply  the  reflex 
of  his  personality.  It  is  owing  to  the  richness  of  the  spiritual 
life  that  is  revealed  there.  It  is  because  a  spirit  that  pos- 
sessed great  individuality  held  at  the  same  time  in  its  inner 
chamber  the  wealth  that  was  gathered  from  a  universalistic 
S}Tnpathy.  The  reader  feels  as  if  his  own  deepest  ex-periences 
were  finding  utterance  in  the  words  before  him  and  he  finds 
himself  embraced  in  a  larger  life. 

This  is  entirely  in  keeping  with  Doctor  Clarke's  concep- 
tion of  the  nature  of  theology.  His  watchword  is:  Theology 
is  made  in  life.  It  is  an  expression  of  the  experiences  of  the 
human  spirit,  and  were  it  not  so  it  would  be  empty  and  pro- 
fane. A  man's  theology  is  a  transcript  of  his  personal  activi- 
ties in  their  highest  interpretation.  The  factors  that  enter 
into  the  formation  of  it  are  the  complex  relations,  inner  and 

228 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  229 

outer,  into  which  he  has  been  brought  as  a  self-conscious 
being.  If  his  theology  is  natural  to  him — as  it  must  be  if  it 
is  his  own — then  it  gathers  up  into  itself  his  whole  personal 
history.  He  is  making  it  every  day.  Not  only  so,  it  also 
arises  as  a  formulation  of  the  meaning  of  the  life  he  hves  in 
the  presence  of  the  imperative  necessity  of  living  still.  A 
man  must  theologize  because  he  must  live. 

The  Approach  to  the  Problems  of  Theology  is  herewith  given. 
It  is  guided  by  the  view  that  these  problems  arise  less  from 
the  intellectual  demand  for  a  formal  system  of  given  truth 
than  from  the  practical  demand  for  direction  in  our  activi- 
ties. The  authoritative  approach  is  set  aside.  Supposing 
there  were  a  sum  of  truths  objectively  given  and  to  be  re- 
ceived submissively,  the  system  of  these  "truths"  which  one 
might  organize  would  not  be  his  theology,  for  it  would  still 
remain  alien  to  his  Hfe,  something  still  external  to  those 
activities  of  the  soul  by  which  its  own  truth  is  made  for  it. 
The  speculative  approach  is  also  set  aside.  The  dialectical 
development  of  a  system  of  abstract  conceptions  from  some 
given  universal  concept,  no  matter  what  name  is  given  to 
these  concepts,  is  something  different  from  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  actual  past  experiences  as  a  guide  to  those  coming 
experiences  which  grow  out  of  them.  In  the  long  and  in- 
volved course  of  human  experience  great  spiritual  reali- 
ties have  come  into  being.  These  are  the  most  precious  pos- 
sessions men  have.  The  experience  of  them  we  call  our  re- 
hgion.  If  they  are  to  be  preserved  in  their  full  value  and  to 
be  also  enhanced  in  value  in  the  future  activities  into  which 
we  are  to  enter,  it  is  necessary  that  we  learn  the  attitude  we 
are  to  assume  toward  our  own  personal  existence  and  all 
other  existences  in  order  that  the  issues  of  Hfe  may  be  solved 
and  that  we  may  live  it  more  fully. 

There  must  be  a  Christian  theology  because  there  is  a  dis- 
tinctively Christian  religious  life.  It  has  come  down  from  the 
past  through  many  generations  as  a  spiritual  force  of  ever- 


230  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

increasing  magnitude.  It  is  in  the  world  as  a  great  present 
fact.  If  it  is  to  continue  here  it  is  necessary  that  we  know 
its  nature.  The  circumstances  under  which  it  came  into  dis- 
tinct existence,  the  course  by  which  it  has  been  perpetuated, 
the  influences  that  have  affected  its  course,  it  is  the  business 
of  history  to  describe.  But  the  meaning  of  this  distinctive 
kind  of  life,  the  relations  into  which  it  brings  those  who  pos- 
sess it  with  the  unseen  Being  whom  they  worship,  it  is  the  task 
of  theology  to  expound. 

Great  assumptions  are  here  admittedly  made.  It  is  as- 
sumed that  the  human  spirit  is  capable  of  distinguishing, 
^\^thout  outer  determining  information,  those  experiences 
which  are  of  the  greatest  value  to  it.  It  is  assumed  that  it  is 
capable  of  supplying  from  within  itself,  by  using  whatever 
material  it  may  have  to  hand,  the  solution  of  the  problems 
which  these  experiences  raise.  It  is  assumed  also  that  the  solu- 
tions arrived  at  are  of  temporary  vaHdity  and  partake  of 
progressiveness.  For  the  religious  life  is  never  static.  It  is 
continually  developing  into  greater  fulness.  Hence  theology, 
to  be  true  to  life,  must  be  equally  progressive.  The  theology  of 
yesterday  cannot  be  the  theology  of  to-day,  nor  the  theology 
of  to-day  the  theology  of  to-morrow.  Let  there  be  no  expec- 
tations of  finality  in  the  doctrines  of  theology,  because  we 
never  reach  finality  in  life. 

Theology  so  viewed  becomes  extremely  hospitable.  The 
religious  life  is  natural.  It  is  the  normal  human  life.  Chris- 
tianity as  the  highest  type  of  religion  is  the  Ufe  that  is  normal 
to  humanity.  If  the  life  of  men  here  can  be  normal,  then 
the  religious  man  is  not  an  alien  to  the  universe,  but  finds 
all  its  forces  contributing  factors  to  his  life.  Hence  the  wide 
range  of  interest  which  Doctor  Clarke's  theology  takes.  The 
Christian  religious  life  is  placed  in  a  positive  relation  to  the 
religious  life  of  men  in  all  ages.  The  universal  religious  life  be- 
comes a  contributing  influence  in  the  formation  of  the  Chris- 
tian life  and  finds  in  the  latter  its  fulfilment  and  its  tempo- 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  231 

rary  justification.  The  religious  life  stands  in  positive  relation 
to  all  the  other  elements  that  constitute  our  human  Hfe  in 
its  entirety.  It  becomes  necessary  for  theology  to  exhibit 
the  unity  of  the  life  of  men  in  their  religious  experiences. 
Similarly  the  whole  material  universe  becomes  a  sustaining 
power  in  the  religious  life,  and  the  most  friendly  view  possible 
is  taken  of  the  processes  and  methods  of  scientific  and  philo- 
sophic investigation.  Thus  the  Christian  thinker,  commenc- 
ing with  the  consciousness  of  those  worthful  experiences  we 
call  "religious"  within  himself,  reaches  out  to  the  inner  life 
of  other  men  and  finds  his  own  enlarged  thereby,  then  goes 
out  to  the  remotest  ages  and  races  to  discover  the  underlying 
unity  of  his  hfe  with  theirs,  and  finally  discovers  himself  at 
home  in  the  universe,  and  both  reads  the  meaning  of  his  ex- 
perience in  the  Hght  it  offers  and  at  the  same  time  reads  its 
meaning  in  the  light  of  those  experiences  which  have  come  to 
him.    This  is  the  range  and  order  of  the  theological  process. 

The  Materials  of  Theology  and  the  use  of  them  are  hereby 
discovered.  To  the  question,  Where  shall  Christian  theology 
find  its  materials?  the  sweeping  answer  is  forthwith  given: 
"Anywhere.  ...  Its  field  for  materials  is  as  wide  as  God's 
creation."  It  does  not  follow,  however,  that  this  boundless 
material  is  to  be  used  without  discrimination.  For  the  car- 
dinal principle  is  that  God's  truth  for  men  "is  made  in  life 
and  action."  Hence  the  various  sources  may  be  distinguished 
and  estimated  according  to  the  immediacy  of  their  relation  to 
the  human  Hfe. 

First  of  all  to  be  named  is  what  we  have  become  accus- 
tomed to  call  the  religious  experience.  The  psychical  Hfe,  the 
reHgious  self-consciousness,  has  the  first  and  last  word. 
VvTiether  men  have  come  into  possession  of  the  better  way, 
whether  they  have  entered  upon  the  higher  Hfe,  whether  they 
have  apprehended  the  heavenly,  spiritual  world,  whether 
they  have  come  to  know  God,  can  be  decided  in  the  final 
analysis  by  no  other  way  than  by  interrogating  their  personal 


232  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

consciousness.  As  a  religious  man  the  theologian  finds  his 
first-hand  material  within  his  own  spirit.  If  he  does  not  find 
it  there  he  cannot  take  the  first  step  in  theology.  Theology 
is  necessarily  individualistic.  An  almost  infinite  variety  of 
theological  views  is  to  be  admitted  as  a  possibility.  This 
does  not  mean,  however,  that  a  man's  theology  is  to  be  only 
his  own  subjective  interpretation  of  a  merely  subjective  ex- 
perience. For  his  fellowship  with  his  fellow  men  brings  him 
into  a  communion  of  spirit  with  them  and  thereby  opens  to 
him  the  vast  field  of  the  whole  inner  life  of  religion  as  far  as 
men  have  been  able  to  give  expression  to  it.  He  will  turn  at 
once  to  that  portion  of  the  field  which  is  most  akin  to  his 
o^vn  and  most  excites  his  own.  The  Christian  instinct  may 
be  trusted  to  find  its  way  here. 

This  estimate  of  the  religious  experience  leads  at  once  to 
the  Christian  Scriptures.  The  high  estimate  to  be  placed  on 
them  as  sources  of  theological  material  does  not  repose  pri- 
marily on  a  knowledge  of  the  circumstances  of  their  composi- 
tion or  of  their  authors,  or  upon  a  knowledge  of  some  unique 
manner  in  which  the  thoughts  expressed  in  them  were  given 
to  men.  Much  less  does  it  arise  from  the  fact  that  they  were 
collected  into  an  ''authoritative"  canon.  It  does  arise  from 
the  supremely  important  fact  that  the  spiritual  life  into 
which  the  theologian  has  entered  has  derived  its  character 
and  obtained  its  chief  nourishment  from  the  impression  which 
the  utterances  of  the  Scriptures  have  made  upon  him  and 
those  whose  spiritual  life  is  akin  to  his.  He  draws  his  ma- 
terials from  the  Bible  because  he  is  in  a  holy  fellowship  with 
the  men  whose  life  experiences  have  made  it  what  it  is.  Lay- 
ing aside  the  vague  and  confusing  term  inspiration,  which 
tends  to  clothe  the  Scriptures  with  mystery  and  shut  us  out 
of  their  secret,  we  are  brought  to  the  fact  that  "The  authority 
of  the  Scriptures  is  the  authority  of  the  truth  they  convey," 
and  the  truth  is  constituted  by  the  quality  of  the  life  in 
them.    It  is  the  peculiar  quality  of  the  Scriptures  as  utterances 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  233 

of  the  spiritual  life,  and  not  the  "proofs"  of  their  extrahuman 
origin  through  the  attestations  of  miracle  and  prediction, 
that  gives  to  them  their  distinctive  place.  This  peculiar 
quality  is  not  of  an  indefinite  character  but  consists  ulti- 
mately in  the  power  of  the  personality  of  Christ  as  he  is  set 
forth  there  to  bring  the  heart  into  a  higher  and  purer  moral 
realm.  He  is  the  secret  of  the  Book,  and  every  part  of  it  that 
participates,  in  the  character  of  Christ  has  to  a  corresponding 
extent  power  over  the  souls  of  Christian  men.  Thus  every- 
thing in  the  Scriptures  that  can  be  viewed  as  participation, 
before  his  personal  advent,  in  his  holy  character,  and  every- 
thing in  them  that  can  be  viewed  as  the  product  of  his  per- 
sonal influence  on  men,  is  material  for  Christian  theology.  It 
is  this  and  this  alone  that  makes  the  Bible  the  Book  of  books. 
It  is  evident  that  this  material  can  be  gathered  from  the 
Scriptures  only  by  a  discriminating  choice.  Our  material 
for  theology  must  be  gathered  by  means  of  a  critical  process. 
Doctor  Clarke  fully  accepted  and  advocated  the  right  and 
the  necessity,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the  hterary  and  historical 
criticism,  and  on  the  other  hand,  of  the  religious  criticism 
of  the  Scriptures.  The  stern  methods  of  criticism  had  no 
terrors  for  him.  The  far-reaching  effects  of  their  methods 
on  the  common  view  of  the  historicity  of  many  of  the  narra- 
tives of  the  Bible  were  clearly  perceived  by  him  at  an  early 
date  and  the  consequences  accepted  without  hesitation.  The 
reason  is  plain:  it  cleared  the  way  for  a  better  view  of  the 
significance  of  the  career  of  Jesus  Christ  and  enabled  the 
theologian  the  better  to  apprehend  the  true  character  of  his 
personaHty.  This  was  the  greatest  positive  outcome.  Nega- 
tively, it  enabled  the  theologian  to  set  aside  some  doctrines 
that  were  based  on  a  view  of  the  equal  authority  of  all  parts 
of  the  Bible,  such  as  the  legalistic  view  of  salvation,  fatalis- 
tic predestinationism,  millenarianism,  the  Catholic-Protes- 
tant doctrine  of  original  sin,  and  the  doctrine  of  atonement 
by  a  sacrifice  to  the  divine  wrath. 


234  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

The  religious  criticism  of  the  Scriptures  proceeds  by  an 
equal  right  with  the  literary  and  historical  criticism.  We 
have  a  right  to  use  and  to  trust  what  he  finely  calls  "the 
Christian  selective  sense"  in  discerning  those  elements  of 
both  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New  Testament  which  are 
truly  Christian.  For  the  men  who  have  come  under  the 
transforming  power  of  the  personality  of  Jesus  Christ  have 
obtained  "a  living  gift  that  [for  them]  transfigured  all  their 
dealings  with  God,  and  transformed  even  God  himself." 
Christ  as  he  impresses  himself  on  the  spirit  of  the  believer 
becomes  the  principle  by  which  we  distinguish  the  Christian 
material  from  the  non-Christian  materials,  no  matter  where 
it  may  be  found.  To  the  "obvious  criticism  upon  this  pro- 
posal that  it  leaves  much  to  the  judgment  of  him  who  under- 
takes to  construct  the  doctrine,"  the  answer  is  made:  "This 
is  true,  and  one  could  easily  wish  for  a  less  exacting  method. 
But  this  seems  to  be  God's  way  with  the  free  spirits  whom 
he  has  gifted  with  the  powers  of  hfe — he  bids  each  and  all  of 
them  turn  their  faces  toward  him,  and  report  to  one  another 
what  they  see."  In  their  communion  with  one  another  in  the 
spiritual  Hfe  and  in  their  inner  relation  with  the  course  of  this 
life  as  it  has  developed  in  history  is  found  the  corrective  of 
mere  subjectivism.  Christ  as  he  reveals  God  to  the  soul 
must  be  the  supreme  standard  by  which  to  test  all  that  pro- 
fesses to  be  Christian. 

Doctor  Clarke's  confidence  that  the  truth  of  Christian- 
ity would  be  by  no  means  detrimentally  affected  by  the  proc- 
esses of  criticism  did  not  spring  from  the  mystic's  view  that 
the  spiritual  and  eternal  so  completely  transcend  the  physi- 
cal and  temporal  that  the  former  may  be  separated  from  the 
latter  and  go  its  way  independently.  In  the  distinctive  sense 
of  the  term  he  was  no  mystic.  The  earthly,  the  temporal, 
and  the  physical  were  of  profound  interest  to  him  because 
they  bore  in  their  bosom  the  presence  of  the  heavenly  and 
eternal.    His  free  and  confident  attitude  toward  the  work  of 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  235 

the  higher  criticism  rested  on  his  trust  in  the  worth  of  the 
historical.  Christianity  was  to  him  a  historical  faith — not 
in  the  sense  that  its  truth  depends  on  the  historicity  of  cer- 
tain presumed  events,  but  that  it  lies  at  the  heart  of  all  his- 
tory, is  one  with  the  historical  progress  of  humanity  and  dis- 
plays the  true  meaning  of  this  process.  This  faith  becomes 
to  him  who  receives  it  the  revelation  of  the  one  purpose  of 
all  human  life.  The  critical  discovery  of  the  actual  facts 
connected  with  the  origin  of  Christian  faith  is  of  great  im- 
portance, because  in  them  the  peculiar  genius  of  the  new 
faith  was  embodied,  but  the  supremely  important  facts  in 
this  connection  were  not  the  external  occurrences  as  such 
but  the  spiritual  events  that  came  to  light  in  the  accounts 
of  the  occurrences.  Similarly  the  equally  inevitable  relig- 
ious criticism  of  the  Scriptures  cannot  be  wanton  or  ulti- 
mately destructive,  since  it  proceeds  from  no  scepticism  but 
from  the  conviction  of  the  irrefragable  worth  of  the  individ- 
ual's religious  experience.  The  Christian's  religious  experi- 
ence flows  from  the  influence  of  the  figure  of  the  Christ  as 
he  is  set  forth  primarily  in  the  Scriptures  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. Thus  the  Christian  Scriptures  themselves  supply  the 
principle  of  their  own  religious  criticism. 

It  follows  from  what  has  been  said  that  Doctor  Clarke 
emphasized  the  contribution  which  the  science  of  history 
makes  to  the  material  of  theology.  All  history  is  interpret- 
able  as  the  history  of  religion,  for  it  brings  to  light  the  way 
in  which  the  spirit  of  men  has  come  to  find  its  higher  ends; 
or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  history,  culminating  in  the  his- 
tory of  religion,  exhibits  the  manner  in  which  God  has  put 
men  in  ever-growing  possession  of  his  own  blessed  life  of 
holy  love.  For  a  similar  reason  the  natural  sciences  and  phi- 
losophy are  treated  with  profound  respect  as  regards  both 
their  methods  and  their  results. 

The  Theological  Method  which  results  from  this  use  of 
materials  is  simple.     There  is  nowhere  in  his  writings  a  la- 


236  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

bored  exposition  of  the  technic  of  theology,  while  yet  there 
is  care  taken  to  be  faithful  to  the  full  demands  of  a  scien- 
tific treatment  of  the  subject-matter  of  theology.  It  is  plain 
to  every  reader  that  his  aim  throughout  was  consciously 
practical — to  enable  the  thoughtful  believer  to  live  out  his 
life  of  faith  in  the  whole  realm  of  possible  experience  and  to 
propagate  this  life  in  others.  Theology  was  to  him  the 
science  of  the  religious  life. 

The  method  might  be  called  the  psychological-historical. 
Setting  aside  the  traditional  method  of  collating  and  organ- 
izing the  great  "authoritative"  declarations  of  doctrine  sup- 
posedly given  by  inspiration,  certified  by  supernatural  events, 
and  built  up  by  logical  inference  into  an  unalterable  system 
of  abstract  truth,  he  lays  down  as  the  basis  of  all  rehgious 
doctrine  the  fact  of  a  conscious,  experiential  religious  Hfe  in 
the  heart  of  the  theologian  himself.  The  story  of  the  course 
of  this  life  as  experienced  to-day  and  yesterday  by  all  those 
in  whom  we  can  trace  it  suppUes  the  material  for  an  induc- 
tive study  of  its  character.  The  qualities  and  convictions 
of  the  faith  that  permeates  this  life  are  thereby  disclosed. 
The  exposition  of  these  convictions  or  possessions  of  faith 
presents  the  meaning  of  the  faith  in  relation  to  history  and 
the  nature  of  the  universe,  and  thus  precedes  and  grounds 
the  attempt  to  justify  them  as  truth.  Dogmatics  precedes 
apologetics. 

The  exposition  of  the  nature  of  the  Christian  faith  as  ex- 
hibited in  its  history  leads  to  its  fountainhead  in  the  teach- 
ings and  career  and  character  of  Jesus  Christ  as  these  ap- 
pear in  the  Gospels  and  the  Epistles  of  the  New  Testament. 
It  is  the  firm  conviction  of  the  present  writer  that  the  chief 
secret  of  the  power  and  beauty  of  Doctor  Clarke's  exposi- 
tions is  to  be  found  in  his  prolonged,  thorough,  and  devout 
study  of  the  New  Testament.  His  free  attitude  toward  it 
enabled  him  to  imbibe  its  spirit  without  suffering  from  the 
fettering  influence  of  an  inherited  cast-iron  system. 


AS   THEOLOGIAN  237 

The  special  themes  that  come  in  for  discussion  are  se- 
lected more  or  less  by  reference  to  the  historical  course  of 
theology  and  the  forms  of  the  historic  creeds.  These  are 
treated  with  reverence  as  formulations  of  the  character  of 
the  evolving  Christian  spirit.  Portions  of  their  language  are 
retained  and  other  portions  are  quietly  set  aside.  In  his 
earlier  writings  considerable  attention  is  paid  to  their  ter- 
minology, and  speculation  is  resorted  to  in  support  of  it.  A 
notable  instance  is  the  attempt  to  interpret  the  doctrine  of 
the  incarnation  by  speculations  respecting  the  nature  of 
deity  and  the  nature  of  humanity.  In  his  later  writings  the 
influence  of  metaphysical  speculation  is  a  diminishing  quan- 
tity. Much  more  attention  is  given  to  the  movements  of 
the  human  spirit  to-day  as  it  seeks  to  explore  all  realms  of 
fact  and  to  discover  the  course  of  personal  activity  and  com- 
munity life  which  they  disclose  to  the  inquirer.  The  ethical 
overshadows  the  metaphysical.  It  is  from  this  point  of  view 
that  the  results  of  historical  investigation  and  scientific  re- 
search in  the  physical  realm  are  appropriated  and  inter- 
preted in  their  ethical-religious  bearings. 

Thus,  then,  it  appears  that  the  theological  method  of 
Doctor  Clarke  is  determined  finally,  not  by  the  necessity  of 
arriving  at  a  knowledge  of  static  truth,  but  by  the  impera- 
tiveness of  obtaining  guidance  in  the  way  to  the  perfect 
active  life,  which  is  the  way  to  God.  While,  therefore,  his 
theology  necessarily  became  systematic  in  its  method  it  did 
not  pretend  to  arrive  at  a  final  system  of  truth.  He  was  as 
suspicious  of  wrought-out  systems  as  he  was  of  disorder,  say- 
ing: "A  theology  too  systematic  is  sure  to  be  distrusted  for 
that  very  quality  and  with  good  reason."  "Incompleteness 
is  far  better  than  a  misleading  appearance  of  perfect  sys- 
tem." The  reason  for  this  attitude  is  plain.  It  flows  from 
that  view  of  existence,  and  of  human  existence  in  particu- 
lar, which  interprets  it  as  in  course  of  evolution  toward  per- 
fection.    No  doctrine  can  be  a  perfectly  true  expression  of 


238  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

the  supreme  realities  known  to  us,  because  these  realities  are 
in  incomplete  evolution  and  because  our  apprehension  of  them 
is  also  in  process.  The  method  is  deeply  dependent  on  the 
aim.  The  aim  is  to  produce  such  an  interpretation  of  the 
Christian  life  in  the  whole  sphere  of  its  existence  as  will  serve 
to  forward  our  spiritual  progress.  As  the  lower  stages  of 
life  are  transcended  the  doctrines  that  grew  out  of  them  are 
transcended  also.  We  carmot  rest  content  with  the  doc- 
trines of  our  fathers  because  we  cannot  live  our  lives  within 
the  limits  of  theirs,  and  in  their  turn  our  doctrines  will  be 
transcended  by  our  sons  who  will  live  a  larger  life  than  ours. 

This  characterization  of  Doctor  Clarke's  theology  would 
be  unsatisfactory  did  we  not  illuminate  it  by  references  to 
his  interpretation  of  some  of  the  great  commonplaces  of 
theology.  Of  course,  nothing  beyond  mere  suggestions  of 
his  full  views  on  the  points  touched  can  be  attempted  here. 
I  select  the  following: 

I.  Revelation.  One  misses  in  Doctor  Clarke  that  whole 
view  of  things  which  represents  heaven  and  earth,  God  and 
man,  as  unlike  in  ultimate  nature,  separated  by  a  gulf  so 
deep  that  we  may  simply  say  heaven  is  not  earth  and  God 
is  not  man,  and  then  add  that  the  gulf  has  been  bridged  at 
points  for  a  time  by  an  activity  from  the  higher  world  mak- 
ing itself  manifest  here  and  giving  us  ghmpses  of  that  other 
world,  or  that  communications  have  been  delivered  across 
the  gulf  informing  us  of  the  higher  world  and  our  relation 
to  it.  This  dualism  disappears.  Instead,  the  relation  of 
heaven  to  earth  and  of  God  to  man  is  immanent  and  as  such 
normal  to  our  existence  here.  God  is  forever  uttering  him- 
self to  our  spirit  and  we  are  forever  apprehending  his  self- 
expression.  For  revelation  is  just  self-expression.  This 
revelation  is  not  to  be  identified  with  the  dictation  of  a  for- 
mula but  with  the  impartation  of  a  higher  self-conscious  life. 
In  the  Scriptures  the  expression  Word  of  God,  "always  de- 
notes a  living  communication  from  God  to  men."     God  re- 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  239 

veals  himself  "Immediately  in  the  communion  that  holy 
souls  have  with  him,"  in  their  inner  experience,  not  before 
this  experience  or  as  a  prior  condition  of  it,  but  in  it.  This 
experience  is  uplifting  and  purifying,  and  nothing  that  comes 
short  of  that  can  be  called  revelation. 

As  Christians  we  believe  that,  "In  Jesus  we  have  true 
revealing  of  God.  This  does  not  mean  something  technical, 
as  if  in  Christ  we  had  received  a  formula  concerning  the 
divine  nature.  It  means  that  Jesus  and  his  life  and  work  con- 
stitute a  great  expression  of  God  and  exhibition  of  his  char- 
acter." Where  he  says,  "The  direct  revelation  of  God  in 
human  hfe  was  made  once  for  all  in  Christ  completed,"  we 
are  not  to  understand  the  words  "once  for  all"  in  a  merely 
empirical  sense;  for  Christ's  gift  to  the  world  is  filling  the 
hfe  of  men  more  and  more  and  putting  constantly  a  new 
meaning  into  the  discoveries  made  by  human  research. 
"When  the  entire  conception  of  God  has  been  unified,  and 
harmonized  with  the  thought  of  Jesus  as  its  centre  and  key- 
note, God  will  be  known  as  he  is.  The  character  that  Jesus 
opened  to  us  is  the  real  character  of  God,  not  to  be  trans- 
formed for  us  by  any  future  discoveries  or  experience." 
"This  character  is  the  same  in  his  relations  with  all  beings, 
because  the  same  in  himself  the  eternal  God."  Thus  the 
course  of  human  history  and  the  laws  of  the  universe  as  dis- 
closed to  us  by  science  and  philosophy  become  to  us  a  Chris- 
tian revelation,  even  though  these  discoveries  may  have  had 
no  historical  connection  with  Christianity,  because  they  help 
to  make  plain  to  us  the  sphere  and  the  manner  in  which  the 
Christian  spirit  is  to  fulfil  its  destiny. 

We  are  to  beware  of  limiting  the  revelation  of  God  to  the 
portion  of  the  human  race  connected  with  the  formation  of 
our  Bible.  "God  has  always  been  in  communication  with 
all  spirits  of  the  human  race."  "It  is  he  who  brought  it  to 
pass  that  man  advances  from  the  life  of  the  beast  to  the  life 
of  the  spirit.     The  life  that  moves  from  the  animal  to  the 


240  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

spiritual  realm  is  of  his  giv'ing  and  of  his  designing.  The  soul 
da^vning  in  man  is  his  self-impartation."  Thus,  then,  "that 
which  he  has  done  in  Christ  can  be  nothing  else  than  the 
culmination  of  a  work  of  God  as  God  upon  man  as  man." 
This  can  mean  nothing  less  than  that  revelation  is  continu- 
ous with  the  growing  spiritual  Hfe  of  men  and  that  it  is  just 
God's  gracious  saving  will  experienced  in  the  life  of  self-con- 
sciousness. 

2.  Salvation.  In  this  subject,  no  less  than  in  the  ques- 
tion of  revelation,  one  misses  much  to  which  he  has  been 
accustomed.  In  the  first  place,  he  misses  the  systematic  ar- 
rangement of  a  body  of  concepts,  each  one  of  which  is  sup- 
posed to  have  a  distinct  connotation  and  to  correspond  with 
a  distinct  spiritual  fact,  the  whole  presenting  the  appearance 
of  a  wrought-out  science,  and  representing  stages  and  sepa- 
rate processes  in  the  work  of  salvation.  Thus  we  have  had,  on 
the  one  side,  such  concepts  as  illumination,  regeneration, 
justification,  adoption,  sanctification,  glorification,  as  de- 
scriptions of  distinguishable  acts  of  God  in  salvation;  and, 
on  the  other  side,  repentance,  faith,  conversion,  consecra- 
tion, as  different  acts  of  man  in  the  process  of  receiving  sal- 
vation. The  whole  represents,  then,  a  spiritual  programme 
followed  in  the  saving  work  of  God  and  experience  of  men. 
These  terms  are  not  discarded  as  useless,  but  the  scheme  as  a 
whole  is  discarded  and  in  place  of  it  appears  the  account  of 
the  inception  and  growth  of  the  new  moral  life  in  the  Chris- 
tian, to  be  regarded  from  one  point  of  view  as  God's  one 
continuous  saving  act,  and  from  another  point  of  view  as 
man's  inner  progress  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  life  of  the 
spirit. 

Similarly  we  miss  the  representation  of  the  work  of  sal- 
vation that  endeavors  to  make  it  harmonize  with  the  Catho- 
lic theory  of  the  godhead  by  assigning  different  parts  of  the 
work  to  the  different  persons  of  the  Deity,  as,  for  example, 
condemnation  and  justification  to  the  Father,  atonement  to 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  241 

the  Son,  and  the  application  of  the  atonement  to  men  by  the 
Spirit,  or,  again,  the  provision  of  salvation  by  the  Father, 
the  securing  of  it  by  the  Son,  and  the  impartation  of  it  by  the 
Spirit.  Instead,  with  a  reverent  acceptance  of  the  triunity 
in  God  (of  which  more  will  be  said  presently)  there  is  the  sim- 
pler and  more  natural  view  that  the  saving  activity  of  Christ 
the  Son  is  the  very  act  of  the  Father  himself,  who  does  not 
stand  over  against  the  Christ  in  his  redemptive  act,  but  is 
wholly  one  with  him.  Similarly  the  renewing  and  purify- 
ing activity  of  the  gracious  Spirit  is  the  eternal  activity  of 
the  lixdng  Christ.  In  like  manner  the  distinctions  between 
the  different  portions  of  Christ's  work,  as  his  teaching,  his 
penal  sufferings,  his  intercession,  his  gift  of  the  Spirit,  his 
government  of  his  people,  while  recognized  as  having  value 
for  the  sake  of  fulness  of  conception,  are  nevertheless  re- 
stored to  their  proper  informal  use  as  complementary  figura- 
tive representations  of  the  one  saving  act  of  Christ  in  his 
infinite  Hfe.     Here  scholasticism  disappears. 

With  the  pseudoscientific  construction  of  the  subject  dis- 
appears also  the  pseudohistorical  view  that  conceives  it  as 
a  "plan  of  salvation"  according  to  which  events  occur  in  an 
order  and  relation  preordained.  Reposing  on  the  "divine 
decrees"  there  occurred  the  events  of  the  creation,  the  fall, 
the  selection  of  a  portion  of  the  race  to  be  the  exclusive  recip- 
ients of  a  definitely  given  law,  the  definite  event  of  the  in- 
carnation, the  atonement,  the  end  of  the  world,  and  the  judg- 
ment day.  Doctor  Clarke  is  far  from  belittling  the  use  of 
these  terms  as  efforts  of  the  human  mind  to  construe  the  his- 
torical process  of  salvation,  but  the  mechanical  character  of 
the  view  repels  him.  Instead,  he  turns  to  a  much  less  pre- 
tentious attempt  to  see  in  the  progress  of  human  history  as 
an  immanent  process  the  unfoldings  of  a  gracious  redemp- 
tive purpose  that  runs  through  all  the  ages  and  is  destined  to 
fulfil  itself  in  eternity.  Salvation  ceases  to  be  viewed  as  ulti- 
mately a  securing  of  a  safe  transition  from  earth  to  heaven, 


242  WILLIAM   NEWTON  CLARKE 

but  the  fitting  of  the  earthly  life  with  a  heavenly  goodness 
and  power. 

It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  to  find  that  the  legalistic 
view  of  the  atonement  is  not  acceptable  to  him.  Its  depen- 
dence on  a  body  of  juridical  ideas  mostly  outgrown  in  the  life 
of  the  nations  is  seen,  and  with  this  is  seen  also  the  impera- 
tiveness of  recognizing  that  this  representation  of  the  matter 
must  fail  to  appeal  to  the  enlightened  to-.day.  Instead,  it  is 
attempted  to  replace  this  defective  view  with  one  that  cor- 
responds with  the  deepening  moral  consciousness  of  the 
times,  the  progress  of  the  aim  and  methods  of  social  better- 
ment, and  the  broader  and  more  humane  views  of  the  nature 
and  means  of  government.  The  atonement  becomes  a  living 
experience  definitely  related  to  the  personality  and  career  of 
Jesus  Christ  and  a  hberating  and  purifying  process  in  the 
individual  and  social  consciousness. 

It  need  scarcely  be  added  that  since  Doctor  Clarke  pre- 
serves the  fully  ethical  character  of  salvation  as  against  the 
metaphysical  interpretation,  there  is  no  place  in  his  theology 
for  the  saving  effect  of  sacraments  or  any  other  view  of  it 
that  finds  its  locus  anywhere  but  in  the  living,  conscious 
spirit  of  the  man. 

A  little  more  positively  and  very  briefly — salvation  is  a 
fact  of  the  personal  experience  and  a  fact  of  history  know- 
able  to  any  one  who  gives  himself  to  the  study  of  the  course 
of  men  in  the  world.  A  doctrine  of  salvation  depends  on 
this  fact  and  attempts  to  expound  it.  Salvation  is  a  relig- 
ious experience — the  pious  mind  sees  its  origin  in  God.  It  is 
a  moral  experience — it  is  a  deliverance  from  sin  unto  right- 
eousness, or  rightness.  The  Christian  salvation  is  a  historical 
fact — the  Christian  traces  it  to  Jesus  Christ.  It  is  a  reality 
of  the  spiritual  realm  unfolding  itself  progressively  in  the 
course  of  time  and,  so  we  believe,  destined  to  come  to  perfect 
achievement  in  eternity. 

The  glory  of  Christianity  is  salvation.    It  is  not  merely 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  243 

something  secured  by  Christianity  but,  truly  understood, 
it  is  Christianity.  That  is  to  say,  a  new  order  of  life  personal, 
social,  racial,  and,  in  its  intent,  universal,  has  come  into  being 
among  men  through  Jesus  Christ.  Many  accounts  of  it  have 
been  given  but  none  of  them  has  yet  become  the  one  account 
of  the  matter  or  is  likely  to  be,  because  the  fact  is  so  unut- 
terably rich  in  meaning.  But  this  we  can  say:  "Straight 
out  from  Jesus  Christ,  as  a  normal  and  congenial  outcome 
from  his  work,  came  that  ethical  and  religious  order  of  life 
which  we  call  the  kingdom  of  God."  Now  "the  central 
truth  of  Christianity"  is  that  which  can  be  truly  called  the 
kingdom  of  God  is  "a  reign  of  mutual  service  and  help  with 
an  unselfish  devotion  to  others  for  its  indwelling  power." 
To  produce  this  new  order  of  life,  to  bring  men  into  the  fel- 
lowship of  it,  to  impart  to  them  the  experience  of  the  graces 
which  flourish  in  it,  such  as  trust  in  the  Infinite  Goodness, 
humiHty,  meekness,  and  gentleness  of  spirit,  graciousness 
and  mercy  to  men,  purity  and  unselfishness  of  heart,  undy- 
ing confidence  and  courage  in  the  presence  of  the  universe, 
is  to  save  them.  "For  about  two  thousand  years  Jesus  Christ 
has  been  the  living  source  of  this  experience"  and  this  order 
of  Hfe  among  men.  How  great  this  fact  may  yet  turn  out  to 
be  and  how  Jesus  Christ  has  brought  it  into  being  we  may 
never  altogether  succeed  in  telling.  Meanwhile  we  can  say 
that  it  does  consist  in  the  increasing  penetration  of  the  hearts 
of  men  and  the  Hfe  of  humanity  with  his  personal  conscious- 
ness in  its  attitude  toward  God  and  men  and  the  world. 
Historically  and  actually  Jesus  is  saving  the  world. 

The  salvation  is  ethical.  It  comes  through  the  appeal 
to  the  moral  consciousness.  The  whole  of  Jesus'  teaching 
is  permeated  with  the  ethical  ideal  as  his  life  is  permeated 
with  the  ethical  motive.  He  never  distrusted  the  supreme 
value  of  the  moral  judgment  as  a  court  of  appeal.  He  never 
forgot  that  men  are  made  or  marred  by  moral  action.  He 
never  sought  to  withdraw  his  followers  from  the  mass  of  man- 


244  WILLIAM   NEWTON   CLARKE 

kind  or  from  the  challenge  of  the  universe,  but  sought  to  en- 
able them  to  fulfil  the  Kfe  of  the  highest  fellowship  with  all 
within  this  natural  world.  His  power  over  them  through 
the  centuries  has  been  working  in  the  same  direction,  the 
establishment  of  a  right  order  of  life  among  men.  It  is  ethical 
in  a  broader  sense  than  that  it  concerns  itself  with  the  indi- 
vidual conscience.  While  the  question  of  the  well-being  of 
the  individual  is  of  abiding  importance,  the  inquiry,  Are 
there  many  saved  ?  loses  itself  in  the  larger  question  of  the 
coming  of  a  universal  reign  of  the  heavenly  Father.  Hence 
also  the  apocalyptical  view  of  a  world-assize  by  which  each 
is  assigned  to  his  final  abode  has,  in  accordance  with  the  aim 
of  Jesus,  been  displaced  by  the  hope  of  a  time  when  the  whole 
creation  shall  be  the  home  of  the  love  of  God. 

The  ethical  is  carried  up  into  the  religious.  Unrightness 
is  sin,  and  sin  is  not  to  be  understood  according  to  the  terms 
of  a  given  law,  but  according  to  the  character  of  the  supreme 
and  infinitely  holy  Person.  It  is  the  love  of  this  holy  Being 
and  not  the  terms  of  a  law  that  gives  to  sin  its  unworthiness 
and  damnable  character.  With  this  interpretation  the  whole 
legalistic  interpretation  of  the  means  of  salvation  drops 
away.  Not  that  the  juridical  language  in  which  the  Chris- 
tian salvation  has  been  set  forth  is  without  value,  but  that 
value  is  temporary  and  this  formal  interpretation  must  yield 
to  the  conception  of  salvation  as  effected  by  one's  being 
brought  into  right  personal  relations.  The  salvation  of 
Christ  is  no  part  of  a  legal  arrangement.  No  difficulty  is  felt 
to  be  in  the  way  of  saying:  "It  is  righteous  to  forgive  those 
who  confess."    There  is  no  impediment  to  forgiveness  in  God. 

Hence  Doctor  Clarke  feels  that  of  all  the  scriptural  and 
theological  terms  that  have  been  used  to  express  the  great 
fact  of  salvation  as  the  bringing  of  men  into  a  better  rela- 
tion with  God  the  term  "reconciliation"  is  the  best.  For 
the  baseness  of  sin,  its  abnormality  for  men,  its  violation 
of  the  standard  of  duty,  its  selfishness,  its  opposition  to  the 


AS   THEOLOGIAN  245 

moral  government  of  the  world — all  these  are  comprehended 
in  the  rejection  of  a  God  who  is  love.  It  is  "not  a  matter  of 
relation  to  law  or  to  government,"  but  a  personal  relation. 
The  relations  of  men  to  one  another  and  to  the  universe  are 
all  comprehended  in  their  relation  to  God. 

3.  Christ.  It  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  the  doctrine  of 
the  person  of  Christ  one  may  hold  will  depend  in  some  mea- 
sure on  his  doctrine  of  salvation,  for  if  Jesus  is  to  him  in  any 
sense  Saviour  the  effect  of  such  an  experience  or  estimate 
of  his  significance  is  sure  to  be  manifest  in  the  interpretation 
of  his  career.  It  has  always  been  so  and  is  likely  to  con- 
tinue. Doctor  Clarke's  doctrine  of  salvation  prepares  us 
for  his  doctrine  of  Christ.  This  does  not  hinder  that  his 
method  of  approach  be  of  great  importance  or  detract  from 
the  value  of  his  views. 

At  the  outset  we  are  struck  by  the  absence  of  those  meta- 
physical premises  that  play  so  large  a  part  in  the  most  widely 
known  christologies  at  the  very  opening  of  the  discussion. 
There  are  no  a  priori  assumptions  as  to  the  essence  of  deity 
and  of  humanity  or  of  the  necessary  relations  between  them 
as  a  foundation  of  his  interpretation  of  Christ,  and,  accord- 
ingly, there  is  an  absence  of  the  effort  to  fit  the  historical 
Jesus  into  the  speculative  scheme,  which  has  been  such  a 
great  obstacle  to  the  traditional  christologies. 

The  historical  consideration  occupies  the  first  place.  The 
facts  of  Jesus'  career  are  to  be  ascertained  by  the  strictest 
application  of  the  critical  methods.  The  facts  are  what  they 
are,  no  matter  how  our  preferences  may  affect  our  appre- 
hension of  them.  Some  portions  of  the  accounts  are  of  such 
a  character  as  to  leave  some  alleged  events  in  doubt,  but  the 
general  representation  of  the  facts  is  reliable  and  the  outcome 
of  the  critical  study  is  to  clarify  the  picture  and  allow  the 
actual  living  personality  to  stand  out  in  his  uniqueness  and 
grandeur.  Such  a  one  as  the  Jesus  set  forth  in  the  Gospels, 
especially  the  synoptics,  actually  lived.     Such  a  person  actu- 


246  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

ally  made  his  advent  into  the  movement  of  human  hfe  on 
earth  and  became  a  distinctive  spiritual  force  in  it.  There  he 
stands  before  us — just,  pure,  sinless,  loving,  gracious,  lowly, 
courageous,  faithful,  commanding,  and  moving  upon  men 
with  a  marvellous  attraction.  The  expositions  liis  first  fol- 
lowers offered  of  the  character  of  his  life  and  even  the  addi- 
tions that  they  were  led  to  make  to  his  real  sa}dngs  become 
an  important  part  of  the  testimony  to  his  actual  achieve- 
ment. They  are  included  in  the  means  by  which  he  has  been 
able  to  perpetuate  the  power  of  his  life  through  the  ages. 
Here,  then,  and  not  in  an  assumption  of  the  nature  of  sin 
and  salvation  supplied  by  a  moral  philosophy  or  by  the 
Mosaic  legislation,  is  the  basis  of  the  doctrine  of  his  saviour- 
hood.  The  salvation  he  brought  is  to  be  described  by  refer- 
ence to  the  actual  fruits  of  his  career  in  human  lives,  includ- 
ing the  life  of  the  theologian  himself. 

What  was  it  that  Jesus  gave  to  the  world?  He  gave  an 
ideal  of  life,  an  ideal  that  he  was  in  his  own  personality.  It 
was  not  merely  a  picture  of  the  perfect  life,  but  he  sowed 
that  life  in  the  earth  in  the  career  that  culminated  in  the  su- 
preme act  of  self-sacrifice  in  death  and  thereby  he  was  able  to 
communicate  to  men  the  spirit  of  his  life  in  such  a  degree  that 
it  became  their  very  life  also.  Thus  he  became  their  sal- 
vation. 

The  place  that  Jesus  has  gained  in  the  hearts  of  men  is 
not  due  to  any  demonstration  ah  extra  of  the  truth  of  the 
claims  h*e  may  have  made  or  of  the  authority  he  possessed. 
It  flows  from  the  actual  power  he  has  exercised  to  bring  them 
into  the  fellowship  of  his  spirit  with  the  conviction  that  they 
are  thereby  brought  into  fellowship  with  God.  The  ques- 
tion of  the  reliability  of  the  accounts  of  miracles  performed 
by  him  as  sensible  matters  of  fact,  the  question  of  the  reality 
of  the  virgin  birth,  or  the  question  of  the  reality  of  the 
physical  resurrection  (Doctor  Clarke  points  out  that  the  idea 
of  the  resurrection  became  greatly  carnalized  in  the  early 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  247 

centuries)  has  no  decisive  place  in  the  determination  of  the 
greater  question,  Who  was  he  ?  These  accounts,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  of  great  value  as  showing  what  men  were  able  to 
believe  of  him  through  what  they  had  found  him  to  be  to  them, 
but  they  drive  us  back  to  the  more  fundamental  question  of 
the  quality  of  the  power  he  exercised  on  men  in  the  experi- 
ences of  religion.  The  response  to  this  question  is  clear:  The 
"simple  faith  and  straightforward  love"  of  the  early  Chris- 
tians and  of  multitudes  since  those  days  "found  him  more 
than  human,  and  it  came  to  pass  that  they  adored  him  as  God, 
and  God  by  means  of  him."  "The  New  Testament  does  not 
connect  this  divine  honor  to  Jesus  with  belief  in  his  supernat- 
ural birth.  It  sprang,  rather,  from  the  recognition  of  divine 
qualities  in  him,  and  from  a  sense  of  his  living  and  reigning  as  a 
Saviour."  Without  previous  theories  of  divinity  and  human- 
ity men  have  felt  the  spiritual  power  that  came  forth  from 
him,  and  identifying  this  with  the  action  of  God  upon  them 
they  have  spontaneously  affirmed  that  God  must  be  as  he  is  if 
v/e  are  to  love  and  obey  and  worship  God,  and  he  must  be  as 
God  since  he  has  such  power  over  men.  "We  behold  in  him 
a  relation  to  God  that  we  find  nowhere  else.  .  .  .  God  was 
in  him  as  never  was  or  will  be  in  any  other  man."  While 
many  still  affirm  that  the  divinity  of  Christ  as  an  article  of 
faith  is  dependent  on  the  belief  in  the  historicity  of  the  virgin 
birth  and  the  physical  resurrection  of  Jesus,  Doctor  Clarke 
places  these  in  the  reverse  order,  saying:  "It  is  his  divinity 
alone  that  justifies  belief  in  his  miraculous  conception.  If 
we  follow  the  example  of  the  apostles  and  early  Christians 
we  shall  not  build  a  doctrine  of  his  person  upon  this  event, 
but  upon  the  character  and  personality  that  became  mani- 
fest in  his  life  and  his  saviourhood." 

With  regard  to  the  question  of  the  incarnation,  or  how 
God  became  man,  so  far  as  Doctor  Clarke  permitted  him- 
self to  speculate  on  this  question  in  the  Outline,  he  favored 
the  kenotic  theory — "voluntary  self-limitation" — but  in  the 


248  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

Ideal  of  Jesus  he  seems  content  to  say  that  the  sum  and 
substance  of  Jesus'  career  is  that  he  revealed  God,  in  his  suf- 
ferings reveahng  the  God  who  suffers  for  our  sins.  Reflect- 
ing on  the  attempted  explanations  of  the  person  of  Christ, 
he  says:  "Theology  has  its  metaphysical  doctrines  of  the 
person  of  Christ  to  account  for  the  sonship  of  Jesus  to  God; 
but  doctrine,  after  all,  is  only  the  expression  of  fact,  and  no 
analysis  of  his  person  can  ever  afford  such  proof  and  illus- 
tration of  his  sonship  as  resides  in  the  life  that  he  lived  and 
the  death  that  he  died." 

We  leave  this  great  subject  here.  One  thing  is  certain, 
that  while  Doctor  Clarke  was  profoundly  interested  in  the 
theological  problem,  he  was  much  less  interested  in  present- 
ing a  fully  formed  and  satisfactory  doctrine  of  the  person 
of  Christ  than  in  securing  his  reader's  interest  in  the  effort 
to  become  ChristHke. 

4.  God.  On  taking  up  the  author's  volume.  The  Chris- 
tian Doctrine  of  God,  the  present  writer  involuntarily  asked 
himself.  Can  anything  be  found  here  that  has  not  been  al- 
ready written  by  others?  and  then  proceeded  to  read  the 
book  through,  for  there  was  no  stopping.  It  is  the  ripe  fruit 
of  Doctor  Clarke's  finest  thought  and  quite  beyond  the  pos- 
sibility of  being  characterized  in  a  few  paragraphs.  How- 
ever, a  few  statements  may  be  made  in  the  hope  that  read- 
ers may  be  stimulated  to  read  the  book  for  themselves. 

One  notices  the  wide  range  that  is  covered  in  the  search 
for  material  for  the  formulation  of  the  doctrine  of  God,  and 
also  the  point  of  departure.  It  is  not  sufficient  to  collect 
and  construe  the  biblical  material,  "for  the  Christian  doc- 
trine does  not  inherit  solely  from  the  Bible,"  inasmuch  as 
the  Christian  life  is  greater  than  the  Bible  and  in  a  large 
sense  the  source  of  it.  Nor  are  we  to  rest  with  the  historic 
creeds  or  their  terminology,  for  the  process  of  forming  a 
Christian  doctrine  of  God  is  not  yet  completed,  nor  will  it 
ever  be,  since  the  Christian  life  must  ceaselessly  expand. 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  249 

Nor  shall  we  be  satisfied  to  discover  the  element  common 
to  all  Christians  and  persistent  through  all  the  Christian 
ages,  for  this  has  been  subject  to  the  limitations  of  our  im- 
perfect experience.  The  present  Christian  doctrine  of  God 
must  be  the  expression — and  cannot  be  more — of  such  Chris- 
tian Ufe  and  knowledge  as  surround  us  now.  "An  unchanging 
deposit  of  truth  is  an  impossibility."  There  can  be  no  final 
orthodox  doctrine  of  God.  An  evolving  divine  fife  in  men 
must  ever  broaden  and  deepen  the  doctrine.  This  remains 
true,  not  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  personality  of  Jesus 
Christ  will  always  supply  the  inner  spirit  of  the  Christian 
doctrine,  but  because  of  that  fact.  For  the  God  he  gave  us 
is  a  "  God  of  reality  and  of  spiritual  life,"  and  for  this  reason 
the  Christian  experience  since  the  days  of  the  historical 
Jesus  has  contributed  an  indispensable  factor  of  the  doc- 
trine. For  we  live  in  him.  This  does  not  eliminate  the  need 
of  employing  the  speculative  factor  in  the  formulation  of  the 
doctrine.  The  speculative  activity  is  itself  an  essential  part 
of  our  spiritual  life  and  inevitably  the  metaphysical  element 
in  our  doctrine  of  God  will  appear.  This  latter  phase  of 
the  doctrine  naturally  develops  in  the  apologetical  treatment 
of  the  subject  where  he  treats  the  question  whether  the 
Christian  view  of  God  derived  from  the  influence  of  Christ 
upon  our  own  personality  and  growing  out  of  our  religious 
life  is  tenable  in  view  of  the  nature  of  the  world  in  which 
our  lives  are  necessarily  lived.  The  Christian  doctrine  of 
God  does  not  begin  with  a  proof  but  with  an  assumption. 

We  are  not  surprised,  therefore,  when  we  read  the  words, 
"Christianity  does  not  approach  God  first  as  Creator,  or  as 
the  great  First  Cause,  or  as  the  Almighty,"  but  as  ethical 
personality  with  whom  we  have  fellowship  in  spirit.  We 
see  how  unhesitatingly  the  author  accepts  the  human  self- 
consciousness  as  that  which  determines  fundamentally  the 
form  in  which  the  existence  of  God  shall  be  construed.  "Spir- 
itual anthropomorphism  is  the  true  key  to  right  knowledge 


250  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

of  God."  God  is  spirit,  that  is,  God  is  a  person,  "A  person 
is  a  being  in  relation  with  others,  who  is  aware  of  himself 
and  has  power  of  directing  his  own  action."  This  is  not 
ofifered  as  a  final  definition.  Such  definition  may  be  impos- 
sible for  us  because  our  personality  is  incomplete.  There 
is  a  diflSculty,  of  course,  in  ascribing  personality  to  God. 
The  true  source  of  the  difficulty  lies  not  in  the  limitations 
which  may  seem  implied  in  the  term  but  in  the  fact  that  we 
are  not  ourselves  perfectly  person.  We  do  not  perfectly 
know  ourselves  or  direct  our  action.  True  personality  is 
found  in  God.  God  is  a  person.  This  is  the  basis  of  our 
estimate  of  our  human  personality. 

We  find,  as  we  should  consequently  expect  to  find,  that 
instead  of  the  "attributes"  of  God  standing  in  the  forefront 
of  the  doctrine,  goodness,  personal  goodness,  is  said  to  be 
the  fundamental  character  of  God.  Goodness  in  God  must 
be  the  same  in  nature  as  goodness  in  men,  or  we  use  words 
without  meaning.  "Goodness  means  the  same  in  all  moral 
beings."  "It  is  the  normal  fulfilling  of  one's  relations." 
The  theology  that  lays  its  basis  in  faith  in  the  divine  good- 
ness must  work  out  very  differently  from  the  theology  that 
reposes  on  the  abstract  idea  of  justice.  The  whole  view  of 
man  and  the  world  must  be  a  hopeful  one  when  the  theolo- 
gian can  say:  "Goodness  lies  back  of  all  existence."  The 
goodness  is  moral  goodness,  positive,  personal  love.  Holi- 
ness and  retribution  cannot  be  the  opposite  of  love,  but  are 
embraced  within  it.  The  atonement  cannot  be  a  way  of 
reconciling  God  with  himself.  "Holiness  and  love  do  not 
need  to  be  brought  together  and  reconciled  before  they  can 
kiss  each  other.  They  are  of  one  spiritual  kindred."  We 
know  now  how  it  is  that  Doctor  Clarke's  theological  discus- 
sions move  onward  with  such  a  confident  tread  and  are  so 
heartening  to  many  who  have  been  tempted  to  shun  all 
theological  works. 

The  secret  of  this  view  of  God  is  his  estimate  of  Jesus. 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  251 

Ignoring  the  common  distinction  between  the  person  and  the 
work  of  Jesus  Christ,  Doctor  Clarke  sees  in  the  personality 
of  Jesus  a  revelation  of  the  moral  nature  of  God.  The  dis- 
tinction between  God  in  Christ  and  God  out  of  Christ  as  re- 
gards salvation  is  a  false  distinction  and  misrepresents  God. 
''The  God  who  is  in  Christ  is  the  only  God  there  is."  "What 
he  does  God  is  doing,  and  such  as  he  is  God  is."  "What  is 
manifested  in  Christ  goes  on  eternally  in  God."  Saviour- 
hood  pertains  to  the  essence  of  God.  He  must  be  creator 
because  he  is  saviour  and  the  creatorship  gets  its  charac- 
ter from  saviourhood.  No  other  kind  of  God  could  the 
Christian  worship.  Hence  "the  divine  saviourhood  is  a 
necessary  part  of  the  true  doctrine  of  monotheism."  That 
there  are  difficulties  for  this  \dew  when  we  approach  the 
question  of  the  judgment  for  sin  is  not  denied,  but  these 
must  not  be  acknowledged  to  subvert  the  doctrine.  What- 
ever judgment  may  work  it  must  be  such  judgment  as  pro- 
ceeds from  saviourhood. 

A  hopeful  view  of  the  world  is  an  outcome.  "Since  he 
is  saviour  there  is  redemptive  significance  in  the  Hfe  of  the 
world."  The  common  theological  doctrine  of  God's  relations 
to  the  world  come  in  for  modification.  From  the  transcen- 
dence of  personality  in  relation  to  the  physical  we  proceed 
to  the  affirmation  of  God's  transcendence  over  the  world. 
This  transcendence  is  not  separation.  Immanence  is  af- 
firmed—not, however,  as  a  counterpoise  (which  is  the  com- 
mon representation),  but  as  the  fulfihnent  of  transcendence. 
It  is  in  transcendence  that  immanence  gets  its  meaning  and 
its  reality  too.  The  interest  in  this  matter  does  not  arise 
from  the  necessity  of  speculation  in  our  apprehension  of  the 
nature  of  the  universe.  The  interest  is  religious.  If  both 
science  and  philosophy  lead  to  the  view  that  the  world  is 
controlled  from  within,  by  affirming  the  immanence  of  the 
Christian's  God  in  the  worid,  it  is  affirmed  that  the  ultimate 
significance  of  the  immanent  law  of  the  universe  is  found  in 


252  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

the  supremacy  of  the  principle  of  holy  personal  love.  The 
world  is  being  made  a  habitation  of  personalities  whose 
inner  life  is  governed  by  this  love.  Love  has  made  it,  love 
constitutes  it,  love  can  be  fulfilled  in  it. 

The  so-called  natural  attributes  of  God  come  to  have  a 
new  meaning.  Their  character  is  moral  and  our  interest 
in  them  is  moral.  Omnipresence,  omniscience,  omnipotence 
become  unipresence,  uniscience,  unipotence,  and  what  we 
mean  by  these  terms  is  that  in  all  places  and  conditions,  in 
all  knowledge,  in  all  activity,  it  is  open  to  us  to  believe  that 
we  are  in  the  presence  of,  enjoying  spiritual  communion 
with,  and  being  ever  upheld  by  the  one  holy  Being,  whose 
love  is  revealed  to  the  hearts  of  men  by  Jesus  Christ.  This 
great  faith  surely  is  the  explanation  of  the  fact  that  in  all 
Doctor  Clarke's  writings  we  find  no  pessimistic  note,  no  for- 
bidding word,  and  it  is  the  secret  of  the  revival  he  has  helped 
to  produce  in  the  interest  in  theology  in  the  minds  of  thou- 
sands of  young  men. 

It  would  be  scarcely  proper  to  close  this  discussion  with- 
out some  reference  to  Doctor  Clarke's  attitude  toward  the 
traditional  doctrine  of  the  trinity.  For  that  doctrine  he 
had  profound  respect.  He  even  indorses  it,  but  only  with 
the  understanding  that  it  needs  reconstruction  according  to 
the  wider  experience  and  peculiar  needs  of  the  present  day. 
Full  value  is  given  to  the  religious  and  intellectual  considera- 
tions that  first  led  to  the  formulation  of  it.  Beginning  with 
the  informal  but  profoundly  expressive  utterances  of  New 
Testament  writers  as  they  sought  to  set  forth  the  richness 
of  the  religious  life  into  which  they  were  brought  through 
Christ,  it  was  later  developed  in  a  formal  way  in  an  endeavor 
of  the  church  "to  understand  and  justify  her  Christian  ex- 
perience," particularly,  "to  justify  her  adoration  of  her 
Saviour  and  to  ground  his  salvation  in  the  eternal  reality  of 
God."  There  was  an  attempt  to  retain  a  true  monotheism 
while  maintaining  the  full  significance  of  the  redemption  of 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  253 

Christ  and  the  consciousness  of  participation  in  the  sancti- 
fying power  of  the  Spirit  he  gave.  The  presuppositions 
under  which  they  defended  it,  namely — that  the  personality 
of  Jesus  is  to  be  understood  by  analysis  of  his  being  and  the 
discovery  of  its  ultimate  essence  (about  which  after  all  we 
know  nothing)  and  that  the  human  nature  and  the  divine 
nature  are  essentially  unlike — are  no  longer  tenable  and  make 
no  appeal  to  our  faith.  Yet  the  doctrine  in  its  true  intent  is 
thoroughly  and  gloriously  Christian. 

The  significant  thing  about  our  theologian's  approach  to 
the  subject  is  that  he  treats  it  under  the  relations  of  God 
with  men,  and  not  as  a  statement  of  relations  within  Deity 
communicated  to  men  by  authority.  The  reason  for  this  ap- 
proach is  "that  it  is  a  doctrine  of  religion."  It  can  be  held 
by  any  man  only  in  so  far  as  it  ministers  to  his  spiritual  life 
and  expresses  it.  The  relations  which  it  describes  are  not 
abstract  but  practical.  The  adjective  "holy"  applied  to  the 
Spirit  indicates  this.  "The  Spirit  existing  in  the  eternal 
Godhead  no  one  would  ever  dream  of  calling  holy:  that 
epithet  requires  the  atmosphere  of  an  unholy  world  to  be 
born  in."  To  hold  the  doctrine  as  if  it  were  a  statement  of 
truth  settled  for  us  apart,  or  in  advance  of,  our  religious  ex- 
perience is  to  place  us  in  a  relation  to  it  altogether  different 
from  that  of  those  from  whom  it  emanated. 

The  traditional  form  of  the  doctrine  comes  short  of  the 
Christian  monotheistic  faith.  The  terms  of  the  doctrine  have 
largely  lost  their  original  meaning.  "Person,"  for  example, 
means  something  quite  different  now.  The  term  "trinity" 
is  also  defective.  It  affirms  the  Christian  recognition  of  the 
threeness  of  God  in  relation  to  his  children  and  the  universe, 
but  it  obscures  the  unity.  In  consequence  it  has  frequently 
led  to  a  tritheism  that  confuses  faith,  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit 
being  separated  and  assigned  separate  activities.  It  must 
not  be  forgotten  that  God  is  personal  in  the  modern  sense 
of  the  term.    There  is  one  God.    He  is  threefold  in  his  self- 


1 


254  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 


revelation  to  his  people.  Hence  in  order  to  maintain  the  one- 
ness of  God  and  at  the  same  time  to  express  his  threeness  of 
redemptive  acti\dty,  it  would  be  better  in  place  of  the  term 
"trinity"  to  use  the  term  "triunity."  In  any  case  and  at  all 
costs,  God  must  be  to  us  the  living  God. 

This  characterization  of  Doctor  Clarke's  theology  may 
fitly  conclude  with  a  brief  statement  of  the  service  he  has 
rendered  as  theologian  to  the  rising  ministry  and  students  of  | 

theology  of  the  present  day:   First,  he  has  helped  to  deliver  | 

theology  from  the  benumbing  effect  of  bearing  the  yoke  of  a  | 

stiff  traditional  terminology  and  enabled  it  to  speak  the  Ian-  f 

guage  of  living  men.  Second,  he  has  permeated  theological 
discussion  with  the  spirit  of  a  living  faith  and  kept  it  in  its  4 

true  sphere  as  a  servant  to  this  faith.     Third,  he  has  con- 
tributed to  the  establishment  of  the  historical  rather  than 
the  authoritative  or  speculative  method  of  approach  to  re- 
ligious questions,  and  encouraged  men  to  believe  in  the  pos-  i^ 
sibility  of  being  absolutely  true  to  fact  and  fearless  in  the  | 
discovery  of  it  without  departing  from  the  soul  of  faith.                      ,| 
Fourth,  he  has  succeeded  in  awakening  in  the  minds  of  mul-  \ 
titudes  of  serious  and  intelligent  laymen  a  new  interest  in 
the  questions  of  theology  as  a  matter  of  personal  concern 
and  edification.     Fifth,  he  has  thus  helped  remarkably  in  j 
preparing  the  way  for  a  richer  rehgious  life  and  a  revival  of 
theology  as  a  handmaid  of  faith. 

The  following  quotations  from  a  letter  to  the  writer,  under 
date  of  April,  1913,  by  Professor  Thomas  Trotter  of  Toronto, 
Canada,  a  former  pupil  of  Doctor  Clarke's,  will  illustrate 
the  statement  as  to  our  theologian's  influence  on  intelligent 
laymen : 

"I  had  an  engagement  to  preach  in  a  distant  city  for 
three  successive  Sundays.  On  the  first  Sunday,  at  the  eve- 
ning service,  there  came  into  the  congregation,  without 
knowing  that  I  was  the  preacher  of  the  day,  a  former  friend 
who,   thirty-seven  years   before,   had   been  my   chum   and 


AS  THEOLOGIAN  255 

student-rival  at  Woodstock  College.  He  passed  on  to  To- 
ronto University  years  before  domestic  circumstances  per- 
mitted me  to  go  to  that  institution.  He  took  a  brilliant 
university  course,  then  a  course  in  law,  and  became  a  promi- 
nent barrister.  For  a  number  of  years  past  he  has  occupied 
a  responsible  legal  position  in  the  employ  of  the  Dominion 
Government.  Until  I  met  him  on  the  Sunday  in  question  I 
had  not  seen  him  for  thirty  years.  It  was  with  unfeigned 
delight  that  we  met  again  and  greeted  each  other  at  the  close 
of  the  service. 

''Learning  that  I  was  to  return  to  the  city  for  the  two  fol- 
lowing Sundays,  he  and  his  wife  insisted  that  I  must  make 
my  billet  with  them.  This  was  richly  to  my  liking.  What 
a  time  we  did  have  reviewing  the  charm  of  the  days  of  long 
ago  and  opening  to  each  other  the  pages  of  our  subsequent 
years ! 

"I  found  him  a  highly  intellectual,  broadly  cultured  man, 
the  author  of  a  list  of  important  legal  books,  widely  read  in 
general  literature,  and  an  authority  on  Roman  antiquities, 
a  man  also  of  great  social  warmth  and  charm.  Naturally, 
in  opening  my  life  to  him,  I  talked  freely  of  my  religious  ideals 
and  activities,  and  we  got  into  open  intimate  talk  about 
the  supreme  things.  He  had  confessed  Christ  at  Woodstock 
College  when  we  were  quite  young  men  together,  and  he  had 
maintained  at  least  nominal  relations  with  the  church  ever 
since.  It  was  manifest,  however,  that  religion  was  not  a 
first-class  interest  with  him,  and  that  he  was  intellectually 
in  revolt  against  conventional  conceptions.  There  were  no 
representative  religious  books  in  his  Hbrary,  nor  did  he  seem 
to  have  any  acquaintance  with  Christian  thought  intellec- 
tually conceived  and  stated.  I  gathered  that  he  had  nu- 
merous friends  of  the  intellectual  breed,  in  all  sorts  of  high 
positions,  who  were  virtually  in  his  own  attitude  toward 
reUgion — regarding  it  as  unreal  and  finding  no  living  interest 
or  satisfaction  in  it. 

"When  we  had  got  on  to  terms  of  perfect  freedom  and 
comradeship  I  rallied  him  that  he  should  have  devoted  so 
much  time  and  travel  to  the  study  of  Roman  antiquities, 
and  should  never  have  turned  his  attention  and  his  intellect 
onto  Christianity.  I  hinted  that  there  was  no  finer  intellec- 
tual output  in  the  literature  of  our  day  than  that  represented 


256  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

by  the  characteristic  religious  books  of  the  times — books 
written  by  men  fully  aware  of  the  time  of  day  and  abreast 
of  the  most  recent  findings  in  every  department  of  knowl- 
edge. I  assured  him  that  his  intellectual  best  would  find  a 
challenge  in  scores  of  books  that  I  could  name. 

''It  happened  that,  without  the  thought  of  making  use 
of  it  in  my  relations  with  my  friend,  I  had  slipped  into  my 
grip  for  reading  on  the  train  Doctor  Clarke's  Ca?i  I  Believe 
in  God  tJie  Father?  I  had  never  read  it,  though  I  had 
bought  it  some  time  before.  I  was  greatly  blessed  and  stimu- 
lated in  the  reading  of  it.  It  seems  to  me  that  Doctor  Clarke 
never  did  anything  finer  or  more  effective. 

"On  the  Sunday,  having  had  the  talk  just  narrated  about 
Christian  books,  and  having  to  withdraw  to  make  my  prepa- 
ration for  public  service,  I  fetched  from  my  vahse  the  little 
book  and,  throwing  it  down,  said  lightly:  *If  you  want  to 
taste  the  kind  of  thing  I've  been  talking  about,  dip  into  that 
while  I'm  away  at  my  sermon.' 

"I  returned  an  hour  and  a  half  later  to  find  my  friend  all 
aglow.  The  book  had  uttered  an  effective  challenge  to  his 
slumbering  faith.  The  sympathetic  spirit  of  its  approach, 
with  the  intellectual  sincerity  and  thoroughness  of  the  argu- 
ment, had  deeply  moved  him  and  introduced  him  to  a  new 
religious  atmosphere.  We  had  some  more  interesting  talk 
at  night,  and  on  the  Monday  morning  I  left  the  book  with 
him  that  he  might  finish  it  before  the  next  Sunday. 

"Returning  for  the  next  Lord's  Day,  I  found  him  eager 
for  talk  about  religious  things  and  full  of  praise  for  the  book 
which  had  so  stirred  him.  He  asked  me,  as  soon  as  I  should 
return  to  Toronto,  to  select  and  purchase  for  him  a  dozen 
or  twenty  books  of  like  intelligence  and  spirit.  These  he 
purposed  to  put  into  a  library  where  professional  men  like 
himself  would  find  them  available  and  discover  a  new  world 
of  interest.  I  gladly  executed  my  friend's  commission  and, 
among  the  books,  I  sent  him  four  of  Doctor  Clarke's. 

"I  have  not  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  my  friend  since. 
A  few  weeks  after  the  books  reached  him  I  got  a  warm  letter 
telling  me  that  he  was  working  through  them  and  that  he 
found  them  'immensely  illuminating  and  stimulating.'" 


PROFESSOR  CLARKE  AT  YALE 
By  Professor  Douglas  C.  Macintosh,  D.D. 

Very  vividly  does  the  writer  remember  the  impression 
made  upon  him  during  his  undergraduate  days  by  his  first 
acquaintance  with  the  works  of  our  most  humane  theologian, 
William  Newton  Clarke.  It  was  during  that  "storm  and 
stress"  period  of  the  college  course,  the  sophomore  year,  with 
its  logical  and  psychological  studies  and  its  revolutionary 
displacement  of  dogmatism  by  the  empirical  method,  that 
he  chanced  to  discover  in  the  college  Hbrary  that  unassum- 
ing little  book.  What  Shall  We  Think  of  Christianity  ?  It 
was  to  the  reader  a  never-to-be-forgotten  message  that  he 
found  there — that  the  validity  of  the  Christian  religion  rests 
fundamentally  upon  the  fact  that  the  experiences  of  which 
it  speaks  are  actually  experienced  and  experienceable  to- 
day. The  way  was  logically  open  for  a  Christian  empiricism; 
the  reader  was  conscious  that  he  had  found  a  friend  indeed. 
Forthwith  he  secured  a  copy  of  the  fascinating  Outline  of 
Christian  Theology,  and  eagerly  devoured  its  contents  dur- 
ing the  ensuing  summer  vacation. 

When  afterward  that  same  student  found  himself  teaching 
theology  in  an  Eastern  school,  he  was  very  glad  indeed  of 
the  opportunity  given  him  of  entering  into  an  occasional 
correspondence,  personal  and  theological,  with  his  senior 
fellow  worker  in  the  field  of  Christian  doctrine.  Finally  he 
ventured  to  suggest  the  satisfaction  it  would  give  not  only 
himself  but  the  faculty  and  students  of  the  school  (Yale 
Dix-inity  School),  if  Doctor  Clarke  could  find  it  convenient, 
on  his  way  from  Hamilton  to  his  winter  home  in  Florida, 
to  visit  Yale  and  address  the  George  B.  Stevens  Theological 

257 


258  WILLIAM  NEWTON  CLARKE 

Club  on  some  theological  topic.  The  reply  was  immediate 
and  to  the  effect  that  it  would  be  a  great  pleasure  to  revisit 
Yale  and  to  renew  old  friendships  and  form  new  ones.  Ar- 
rangements were  accordingly  made  for  a  meeting  on  the 
29th  of  November,  191 1,  and  on  Doctor  Clarke's  arrival  at 
New  Haven  he  was  taken  to  the  home  of  Dean  Charles  R. 
Brown,  where  he  was  entertained  during  his  stay  in  the  city. 

During  this  visit,  among  many  other  topics,  Professor 
Clarke's  conversation  was  on  such  subjects  as  the  measure 
of  individual  responsibility,  the  assurance  of  immortality, 
theological  method,  the  relation  of  theology  to  philosophy, 
and  the  relation  of  his  own  theological  system  to  the  work 
of  the  Ritschlian  school.  On  this  last  point  it  was  interesting 
to  learn  that,  while  admitting  the  extensive  similarity  be- 
tween his  own  point  of  view  and  conclusions  and  those  of 
the  Ritschlians,  he  was  not  conscious  of  having  been  greatly 
influenced  by  German  theological  thought;  his  own  final 
position  was  reached  by  largely  independent  processes,  as 
described  in  his  little  book,  Sixty  Years  with  the  Bible. 

What  he  had  to  say  as  to  his  own  assured  consciousness 
of  immortality,  of  being  in  possession  of  an  eternal  Hfe,  was 
of  special  interest  in  connection  with  the  topic  which  he 
chose  for  discussion  before  the  Theological  Club,  viz.,  "Im- 
mortality: A  Study  of  Belief."  Throughout  the  evening  of 
the  meeting  there  was  a  heavy  rainfall,  so  that  comparatively 
few  from  outside  the  school  were  able  to  be  present;  but 
there  was  a  practically  full  attendance  of  the  professors  and 
students  in  Marquand  Chapel,  and  it  was  generally  felt  that 
the  meeting  was  by  all  odds  the  best  that  had  been  held  in 
the  history  of  the  club.  Most  lucidly  and  with  character- 
istic catholicity  of  spirit  he  showed  how  there  are  more  ways 
of  arriving  at  beUef  in  immortality  than  one.  Sometimes 
the  belief  comes  chiefly  through  ancestral  influence;  some- 
times it  is  made  to  rest  upon  a  word  of  authority,  or  upon 
testimony  of  the  senses,  or  upon  philosophic  reasoning;    or 


PROFESSOR  CLARKE  AT  YALE  259 

finally  and  most  safely,  it  is  with  many  grounded  mainly 
upon  spiritual  insight  and  moral  conviction.  So  energetic 
of  body  and  alert  of  mind  did  the  speaker  appear,  so  youth- 
ful of  spirit  and  so  ready  and  incisive  throughout  the  discus- 
sion, that  it  was  very  far  indeed  from  our  minds  that  within 
a  very  few  weeks  he  who  was  able  to  speak  so  assuredly  of 
the  Hfe  beyond  would  himself  be  called  to  enter  upon  the 
exploration  of  its  secrets.  When  the  news  of  his  passing 
reached  us,  it  was  with  renewed  impressiveness  that  the 
words  of  this,  his  last  public  address,  came  to  us:  "Man 
aspiring  to  immortality  is  aspiring  into  the  bosom  of  his 
Father,  and  his  Father  is  there  to  receive  him.  God  taking 
hold  upon  man  to  bring  him  to  his  true  self  and  service  is 
undertaking  a  task  unlimited.  But  for  the  task  he  has  un- 
limited room  and  opportunity,  for  man  is  a  being  whose 
range  runs  on  through  all  the  duration  that  God  can  need. 
...  In  immortality  God  will  bring  man  to  the  end  for  which 
he  first  designed  him,  and  will  use  him  for  all  the  high  pur- 
poses to  which  his  nature  is  adapated."  ^ 

The  revered  teacher's  so  early  demise  was  not  anticipated 
either  by  himself  or  by  us;  but  we  may  well  believe  that, 
even  had  it  been,  he  would  have  been  glad  to  come  to  us  as 
he  did,  with  his  message  of  faith  and  inspiration.  His  rela- 
tion to  the  Yale  Divinity  School  had  been  at  times  intimate, 
and  was  at  all  times  most  cordial.  The  late  Professor  Stevens 
had  been  one  of  his  closest  and  most  understanding  friends. 
From  the  time  of  their  appearance  constant  use  had  been 
made  of  his  books,  especially  the  Theology,  by  successive  classes 
in  systematic  theology.  In  1905  he  had  delivered,  as  a  much- 
appreciated  course  on  the  Nathaniel  W.  Taylor  foundation, 
the  lectures  afterward  published  under  the  title.  The  Use 
of  the  Scriptures  in  Theology.  Moreover,  in  1900  the  uni- 
versity had  honored  itself  as  well  as  the  recipient  by  confer- 

'  The  address  was  published  entire  in  the  Yale  Divinity  Qttarterly  for  Janu- 
ary, 19 1 2. 


26o  WILLIAM  NEWTON   CLARKE 

ring  upon  him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity.  His  thought 
will  long  continue  to  deeply  influence  the  students  for  the 
Christian  ministry  at  Yale,  as  in  many  other  places,  and 
through  them  to  shape  the  religious  convictions  of  ever- 
widening  circles  of  the  Christian  people  of  this  and  other 
lands. 


INDEX 


Agassiz,  Louis,  20. 

American  village,  2. 

Ancestors,  1,4. 

Andrews,  Edw.  Gayer,  17,  70,  71 

Andrews,  Newton  Lloyd,  21. 

Avignon,  80. 

Baptist  Education  Society,  3. 

Baptist  parsonage,  13. 

Baptist  Theological  School  in  To- 
ronto, 55. 

Baptist  Women's  Missionary  Soci- 
ety, 25. 

Beebe,  Doctor  Alexander,  20,  62. 

Birth,  2,  9. 

Bridgman  editorial,  116. 

Brigham,  Albert  Perry,  63 

Brooks,  Reverend  Walter,  62. 

Bumham,  Professor  S.,  62. 

Bushnell,  Horace,  44. 

California,  winters  in,  65. 

Cazenovia,  6-9,  12,  13,  56,  132. 

Chautauqua  movement,  26. 

Childhood,  11. 

Chittenango  Falls,  9. 

Christian   Doctrine  of  God,   The,   79, 

86,  93,  94,  186,  204,  248. 
Christian  Endeavor,  25. 
Clarke,  Jeremiah,  5. 
Clarke,  William,  6. 
Colgate,  James  B.,  4. 
Colgate  University,  4. 
Colgate,  WilUam,  4. 
College  days,  20,  21. 
Colorado  Springs,  66-68. 

Death,  99-100,  183,  258. 

Death  of  father,  41. 

Death  of  mother,  72. 

De  Land  (Fla.),  91. 

D.  K.  E.  Society,  21. 

Doctor  of  Divinity  conferred  by  Yale 


University,   74;    by  University  of 

Chicago,  75. 
Doctor  of  Sacred  Theology  conferred 

by  Columbia  University,  95. 
Dodge,   President  Ebenezer,   62,  64, 

65,  150. 
Dublin,  85 
Dudleian  Lecture,  86. 
Dunbar,  Duncan,  38. 

Edinburgh,  85. 
Ely,  85. 

Father's  visit  to  Newton  Center,  1869, 
40.  _ 

Favorite  books,  12,  112,  113. 

Florida,  91-94,  96. 

Fosdick  article,  117. 

Franconia,  105. 

Friendships,  1 11,  150;  in  Cazenovia, 
18,  19;  in  Florida,  93;  in  Hamil- 
ton, 20,  21,  62;  in  Haverford,  74; 
in  Newton  Center,  37-39. 

Gould,  Professor  E.  P.,  39. 
Grant,  Ulysses  S.,  5. 
Gray,  Asa,  20. 

Hamilton,  2,  3,  20,  62-98,  150,  208. 
Hamilton  congregation,  63. 
Hamilton  Theological  Seminary,   21, 

42,  201. 
Harris,  J.  Rendel,  85 
Harvard  Summer  School  of  Theology, 

73- 
Harvey,  Hezekiah,  62. 
Haverford,  74. 

Huxley  and  Philip  Brooks,  75. 
Hyde,  Professor  Ammi,  Bradford,  17, 

93- 
Hydres,  80 

Ideal  of  Jesus,  The,  96. 


261 


262  INDEX 


Imperturbability,  i6i,  174,  224. 
Immortality,  98. 
Independence,  204. 
Ingersoll,  Robert,  18,  19. 
Irving,  Edward,  121. 

Judson,  Adoniram,  5. 
Judson,  Edward,  157. 

Keene,  21,  24,  30,  44. 
Kennebunkport,  51. 
Knapp,  W.  I.,  21. 

Langley  cottage,  33,  34.  42. 
Lefleur,  Reverend  Theodore,  50. 
Lincklaen,  John,  7,  8. 
Love  of  music,  106,  107.  155. 
Love  of  nature,  26,  67,  107. 
Loyalty,  173,  i74- 

Madison  University,  21. 
McGill  University,  49. 
Merrill,  George  E.,  95 
Method  as  teacher,  215,  216. 
Miner,  Absalom,  4. 
Miner,  Thomas,  5. 
Miner,  Urania,  6, 
Montreal,  47,  48. 

Naples,  83 

Newton  Center,  30,  33,  35,  36,  44,  47, 

109,  120,  131,  134- 
North  Brookfield,  5,  6,  7. 

Oberlin,  75. 

Oldtoum  Folks,  2. 

Olivet  Baptist  Church,  47,  49,  136. 

Oneida  Conference  Seminary,  12. 

Optimism,  59,  92,  252. 

Ordination,  21,  24. 

Outline  of  Christian  Theology,  The,  68- 

71,  118,  126,  141, 142,  151, 185, 205, 

207,  257. 
Oxford,  78 

Pasteur,  Louis,  99. 


Pastorate,  first,  24;  second,  33;  third, 

62-64. 
Payiie,  Elisha,  3,  4. 
Payne,  Samuel,  3. 
Philology,  interest  in,  103. 
Pinebluff,  N.  C,  86. 
Prayers,  220,  226. 

Raymond  article,  119. 
Richmond,  76. 
Rowntree,  J.  Wilhelm,  75. 

Schmidt,  Nathaniel,  62. 

School-days,  14-18. 

Self-forgetfubess,  165,  203. 

Separatists,  i. 

Sincerity,  171,  181,  207. 

Sisters,  9,  172,  i73- 

Sixty  Years  With  tJte  Bible,  i,  10,  22, 

45,51,53,95,102,117,131- 
Smith,  Samuel  Francis,  37- 
Some  Recent  Aspects  of  tlie Ministry,  24. 
Stackpole  article,  115. 
Stetson  University,  93. 
Sunday-school  work,  25. 

Thomas,  President  John  M.,  125. 
Thomdale,  112. 

University  of  Chicago  confers  degree 

of  Doctor  of  Divinity,  75. 
Use  of  the  Scriptures  in  Theology,  The, 

87. 

Value  of  Doctor  Clarke's  books,  123, 
124,  185,  228,  259. 

Warner,  Charles  Dudley,  18,  19. 

Waterville,  N.  Y.,  27. 

White,  Professor  Aaron,  16,  17 

Whitesboro,  12. 

Work  of  Christ  for  Our  Salvation,  75. 

Yale  University  confers  degree  of  Doc- 
tor of  Divinity,  74;  lectures  in,  86, 
87,  97.  98- 


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